Better Beginnings
by Mayonaka no Ame
Summary: The relationship was over. Dead and ceremoniously buried. Yet, for reasons unknown, over decades she keeps getting pulled back into him. Perhaps love is a tether that never fully loosens, and the cycle can begin again with the new life they created. Makorra [Korrasami acknowledgment].
1. Part I

**-. Better Beginnings .-**

 **PART I**

"So. You and Asami, huh?"

The speed with which he broached the subject made her choke on her tea.

Two minutes and barely one bite of moochi. That had to be some sort of record.

Even the press had the courtesy to touch upon her love life only after a prelude of pleasantries and photographs. That and/or a tongue lashing on why the new trade policy she helped draft would slaughter the economy.

Mako, however, had never been one to procrastinate.

So she swallowed the still-too-hot liquid, pretending to ignore the burning in both her throat and cheeks while struggling to sculpt an answer. It had to have the perfect balance of sensitivity yet confidence.

To her eternal regret, _subtlety_ was still an element which Avatar Korra had yet master.

"Umm...Yeah," she mumbled as the silence started to sour. "Sorta. No- not sorta. Yes, I mean. I meant 'yes'."

All she could offer right then was as direct an answer as possible. Despite its harshness, honesty would forever be her most trusted tool. No matter how painfully awkward.

The cup imprisoned between her palms was failing to inspire warmth. Every item in the room, from the salt-weathered tapestries to the divot marring the varnished surface of their table, was given a thorough once over before she saw no other choice but to see him.

Mako was found to be smirking through a long, exaggerated sip, his eyes glowing like dying embers.

Korra mirrored the expression. He was still the same jerk-bender, after all, who frequently abused the privilege of knowing and pushing her buttons.

Soon enough, the tension dissolved and she felt herself shimmy into their usual, comfortable mould, despite it being nearly three months since they last laid eyes upon one another at Varrick and Zhu Li's wedding. They were just two ex lovers, now friends, catching up over familiar tea and treats; amused by, not ignoring, the somewhat inappropriate memories that this very same dark booth had collected what seemed like a lifetime ago. Their past selves lingered like brilliant spirits in the space between them; young and (relatively) carefree and so very, very much in love.

She had thought back then that she could never be happier.

How naive.

"Just so you know, it wasn't you."

"It wasn't me that what?"

Korra sighed. Was he really going to make her repeat the multiple gossip column headlines that dragged all three of them through the mud?

His unwavering smirk insisted that he was.

"You didn't ' _convert_ ' us."

As hoped for, a chuckle was unleashed which Korra translated as encouragement. "Well, obviously you know that's not how it - how we - work. I just...she just...you know?"

"Oh, I know."

There was no need to say anything more on the subject. Both experienced first hand how amazing a person, a partner, Asami Sato was. They both knew that she and Korra had formed a kinship over the years that he could barely comprehend let alone cultivate. Yet. If ever.

He also knew, very well, how passionate both women were. And if they had a small percentage of that fire with one another that they had had with him, in addition to a healthy mental balance, then they would no doubt be content for a long lifetime to come.

To his surprise and relief, the thought brought a calm to the usually frantic waters of his psyche.

Seeing Korra happy made him happy. Asami too. He loved them and they deserved it.

It was enough.

"To new and better beginnings." He raised his cup and Korra followed suit until both rims shyly kissed.

"Ditto."

* * *

It was two years later when a radio broadcast first hinted at it. Though Mako knew better than to take such sources to heart. He was in the middle of an especially harsh circuit at the police station's gym when Shiro Shinobi started his celebrity rant between the upbeat jazz ditties that kept them all in pace.

" _Trouble in paradise for the Avatar and her lady love, who were seen squabbling-"_

Mako let his heart beat drown out the rest as he concentrated on moving faster, easily passing the many younger, more muscular boys from the rookie squad.

He liked running. It brought him back to what was, arguably, a simpler time; to when he ran to dodge cops or proprietors after swiping an unsupervised edible. Now he was in the position of the chaser with a whole city of souls, not just a younger brother's rumbling stomach, depending on his stamina. The many, increasingly gruesome, unsolved case files were weighing down more than just his desk as of late.

Shinobi then said something else troubling. Something about the Avatar returning to the city. It screwed up his concentration enough that his toe caught a hurdle mid jump. Without invitation, he found himself dining on gravel. Over the flurry of cadets and colleagues rushing to help, knowing that nothing short of a stroke could get detective Mako to fumble, the rest of the radio report was drowned out.

Hours later, sitting at home with his twisted ankle resting upon the coffee table, he frantically pawed through the mail he failed to collect all week. Pinned to the wall above the radiator was the last letter he had received from Korra, the once crisp paper now yellowed and curled around the edges. Unlike her previous world tour dictated by shadows, she was making an effort to keep close friends and family in the loop with at least the significant changes in her life and schedule. Last he heard, she was in the Earth Kingdom in the process of being driven mad by Prince Wu and had no intention of leaving until both he and his kingdom showed signs of stable maturity. This, according to recent headlines, was still a long ways away.

He eventually tossed the pile of mainly take-out fliers on the floor to join the many others. The litter was almost thick enough to compensate for the threadbare carpet he never got around to replacing.

There was no new correspondence from anyone, let alone Korra. He imagined they had grown weary by his lack of responses. He didn't blame them.

While running a hand through his thick, black hair that had become a quarter inch too long for his liking, he remembered that Chief Bei Fong had accused him of being depressed a couple of weeks earlier. Not in the classic, obvious sense - as becoming a useless slob was a fate worse than death - but in a way that he simply cared very little for that which he did very well.

It never occurred to him to heed her words until that moment.

So he was depressed. No better time than the present, what with a stupid injury barring the blessed distraction of work, to go visit his brother.

* * *

"I'm not depressed," Korra was arguing half a world away. She slouched with her feet propped upon the desk, proving in her usual crass way that she was much too comfortable in someone else's seat. "I'm angry. I suggest you don't mix up the two again."

Suyin rolled her eyes before swatting the Avatar's dirty boots off her speech drafts. "Fine. You're angry. I suggest you get over it fast or at least feign otherwise. Here."

The offending pile of paper was shoved toward her side of the desk once again. It only served as kindling to the fire of the Avatar's rage.

To make a somewhat dramatic point, Korra intended to see the text go up in smoke. Literally. But before the flame summoning gesture could be completed, it was discovered that the iron arm of her chair had been fashioned into a shackle.

The representative from Zoafu was one step ahead of her ward's notorious temper. As always.

"Seriously, Korra? We don't have time for these immature theatrics."

"That little brat had _no_ right to-"

"He's far from hurting anyone. Did you ever stop to consider that, beyond the obvious embellishments, this could be good for the kingdom in the long run? The council is unanimous in its support, so all you have to do is announce the project. Or don't. It's going to happen, regardless."

With a snort of derision, Korra released herself from the restraint, the metal frame bending back so forcefully that it was whipped into sharp spikes. She eyed the speech draft one more time before vehemently shaking her head.

"You do it. I just...I can't _pretend_ to support him with this. I won't! He's blatantly undermining my authority."

"You _have no_ authority here! Not anymore."

For once, she failed to dredge up a retort or even an exaggerated, destructive outburst. One could not argue with pure fact.

While adhering to the promise of a democratic system for his people, Wu's spoiled nature still reared it's ugly head in policy fine print. They were still getting flack for accidentally approving a 10,000 yuan allowance for royal footwear. According to Wu, seeing as his position has been reduced to a figure-head, he needed to maintain balance with bold figure-feet. Korra almost ended his reign with a few missing, figure-limbs.

And yet today, again, he still had managed to blindside her with a proposal to build himself a lavish new home under the guise of a new city hall. A proposal that had made its way through all other Council members and obtained all the necessary signatures before she even had a whiff of its existence.

She could, technically, destroy the project if only by using her media influence to fan the stink of corruption toward the people. It was tempting. If only to make a point. If only for revenge.

The cost would be the little, remaining influence she had over the Earth Kingdom Council. Also, perhaps, what shreds of trust the current government had spent so much time and effort reconstructing. It could crumble a system that, for all its faults and remaining dredges of class warfare, was without a doubt improving the lives of the majority of citizen.

It was difficult to put an exact price on integrity.

Slowly, to prove she had regained control, Korra removed her boots from the desk and ran her hands along the chair back so that it returned to its smooth, glossy original. Her eyes never left those of the woman she has once considered a mentor.

She wondered if all teachers, or all people, were destined to disappoint her. And vice versa.

"Fine. He can build his new _palace._ But I refuse to go out there and be the one to tell the people we're squandering their taxes yet again."

Suyin sighed for what was probably the hundredth time that hour alone. "It's a government office with a modest budget and we need it. Your support would be appreciated, but I won't force you to do something you don't believe in nor would I stop you from pursuing alternate angles. Our Republic expects the same courtesy. Especially from you."

And with that, the representative turned on her heel and left. Between the closing doors, Korra caught a glimpse of Wu's back from where he stood at the balcony podium along with all eleven other voted-in members from towns and cities across the old Earth Kingdom. He was standing as straight and confident as ever with arms wide open as if to embrace the crowd Avatar could do nothing but slouch further behind the desk as she listened to the jittering of reporters and cameras. Soon enough, muffled laughs and cheers reached her ears, evidence of yet another successful "Wu-ing" of the press.

Korra's lips pressed themselves together so hard she tasted copper.

Perhaps it was indeed a little cramped in these halls; the last surviving wing of the Earth Queen's residence. It also felt a lot colder as of late.

The next day, every newspaper celebrated Prince Wu and the new Earth Republic Council's brilliant design of a city hall/museum to replace the crumbling inner ring palace. It was sure to be a tourist highlight that would assist the economically limping city of Ba Sing Sei back toward stability.

Avatar Korra wasn't mentioned.

* * *

Despite the changes to his brother's lifestyle having been announced, described and embellished ad nauseum in letters and phone calls and even singing telegrams, Mako still found himself ill-equipped to process it all at once.

He had not been available for the housewarming nor the wedding nor even a single one of the less formal it's-a-Tuesday-let's-drink gatherings. The former events had been inconveniently scheduled at the same time as popular city festivals when, traditionally, half the police force called in sick. Whether to join the fun or avoid the stress, Mako would never know or understand. Regardless, as head detective he simply couldn't get away, especially across the continent. Bolin had been disappointed but understanding. At the very least, it was an opportunity to vanquish Varrick's high volume sulking by knighting him lack-of-any-better best man.

Mako remembered receiving the pictures in the mail and feeling a rare warmth in his chest that had once been constant. He also remembered dredging up some genuine enthusiasm a few months later when he was informed that he was going to be an uncle. But soon enough, like all other snippets of optimism, the news was overshadowed by bolder headlines of murder, mayhem and chaos. Thus, it took him an embarrassingly long time to recognize the changes in Opal as she waddled over to greet him from the yard of their modest, metal plated house. Only a kick to his ribs from her extended stomach as they hugged, violently brought her condition to his attention.

"You have good timing," Bolin said as he slid a steaming cup of tea over to his brother before settling himself in the opposite chair. "She's gonna be making her appearance any day now! I've got my money down on Tuesday. Wei and Wing are already out of the running by a week."

From the kitchen, Opal tutted her disapproval. "HE'LL be making his appearance when he's good and ready, next month!"

"You keep telling yourself that, sweetie!"

A strained smile inched it's way onto Mako's lips which he tried to hide with a sip.

Bolin continued the playful banter with his wife, poignantly giving his brother many chances to jump into the conversation, all the way through a meal of seemingly endless courses. Nori-wrapped, grilled sea-things, smoked meats arranged into blossoms, towers of pickled vegetables with rice noodles dripping in sauce and spicy pastries shaped like stars - delicacies their younger selves could only dream of now filled their plates to the point of spilling over, as if they were making up for the many meals lost.

Mako was sure to nod when Bolin sought confirmation of one of their pro bending feats. He fashioned polite but awkwardly concise answers to any questions directly posed. He would shrug or release a breathy laugh whenever future plans were mentioned, unwaveringly noncommittal as had become habit. With every vague, uncooperative response they managed to forcefully extract like a rotten tooth, the hosts' shoulders would sag a little further.

By the time Opal excused herself to bed, blaming the aches pregnancy though they were all too aware of other discomforts present, Bolin had come to a disheartening realization.

"You don't have to stay."

His tone contained not one hint of the shameless passive-aggression that had once been his trademark. They sat together on the back deck, tracing patterns in the heavens and wondering when exactly their destinies had been traded like the worn, pro-bender cards they used to collect.

The elder brother took a breath of crisp night air, feeling oddly discomfited by the lack of dust and smoke in his lungs. "I…want to want to stay," was all he managed, hoping it was enough to justify his packed duffel by the door.

"I know you do. I appreciate it."

Mako was halfway down the block, shuffling along as quickly as his crutch allowed, when the screaming started. His brother's screaming, that is.

Along with the breaking of dawn, Opal's water had followed suit.

* * *

"Isn't this just _delicious_!"

The photo was pressed so eagerly into her face that Korra was forced to take a step back. Hoping to humor her girlfriend and end the subject, she took a moment to scrutinize the bundle of fat, wrinkled limbs and beady eyes resting upon what looked to be an iron pedestal. It took a second to realize she wasn't being presented with a dinner option.

"It's a baby, not a dumpling."

"Oh, you know what I mean." After snatching the photo back with a teasing glare, it captured Asami's attention once more. "She's just so perfect! Bolin must be over the moon."

Korra bit back the urge to remind her that that particular friend practically lived on the moon. Instead, she returned her focus to the hundred pages of text sprawled over her desk. A new immigration-policy draft had just been delivered to her as a purely respectful gesture, seeing as it was already to be presented to the Republic Council for final approval early the next morning. She had been unaware that such terms were being negotiated let alone close to being put into practice. The last-minuteness of her involvement must mean that Wu was, yet again, trying to slip something past. Over her dead and reborn body would that happen.

Asami was speaking again. The words floated somewhere over her head and she swatted them away like listless moth-flies.

It wasn't until a bejeweled hand was waved in front of her eyes that she had no choice but to look up, pairing the motion with the most frustrated breath she could muster. " _What_?"

"I was _saying_ that we should make a point to visit them on our way back to Republic City."

"We can't."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not going back yet." Korra's gaze was reburied in the document before the mask of hurt and confusion could slip into place. It was an accessory that Asami wore much too often as of late and she had long since deemed it unattractive.

"But we agreed-"

"I know what we agreed. Things have changed."

"No, they haven't. You're not needed here anymore. And I have production on the new airships starting next month that I have to supervise. We need to move on, Korra. Forward." She gave the last word emphasis, reigniting a whole other debate they had been having on nearly a nightly basis.

They stared at each other for a while longer, both wordlessly pushing their independent agendas. A stalemate was quickly reached.

"Fine." Asami eventually conceded, the disappointment evident in her tone. "I'll go visit Bolin and then return to Republic City. You'll stay here."

Korra glanced at the document draft, then at her beautiful, faithful, talented and intelligent girlfriend; a woman that most people would gladly devote their lives to if not die for. Within a few seconds, the most obvious priority couldn't help but garner her attention. The scraping of her desk chair being pulled closer drowned out Asami's heels clicking on marble as she walked away.

* * *

"INCOMING!"

Mako barely had time to brace his arms before his niece came barreling into them from above. She had been guarding her reign at the very pinnacle of an iron monstrosity that passed for a jungle gym in Zoafu, a good 10 feet above the ground, before deciding to abruptly and dramatically abdicate the moment a familiar adult wandered close enough. It was difficult to be less impressed with her daring than terrified for her safety.

" _Spirits,_ Kira!" He set her down before fixing her with a mock glare; the perfect vision of a stern policeman. "What did I _just_ tell you about being more careful, huh?"

"You told me to look before I leap." she explained matter-of-factly while brushing at what was probably permanently embedded mud streaked across her tunic. "I looked. I saw you. So I lept!"

Before he could even attempt to argue with her flawless logic, she was running off, reminding him that he had little authority over those under the age of five.

He returned to his seat on the bench, vigilantly staring as she did a shrieking circuit around the playground, her long, dark ponytail trailing behind her like the tail of an especially bright comet. He smirked at the comparison, believing her almost equally destructive as a piece of molten rock hurtling through space. Also, equally awe-inspiring.

Amber eyes followed closely as Kira began her assault on a giant, metal ant-pede half buried in the sand. It had been fashioned by her uncle Huan as some sort of artistic protest, but was quickly requisitioned as a plaything by a growing army of nieces and nephews to the point that he had no choice but to reassign it. Between the legs she was beginning to climb, Mako's attention was diverted by two other figures taking advantage of the creature's shade. There sat a woman, her long wavy hair swept aside by a pearl comb, holding the hands of an infant who was obviously just learning to stand. Both were staring at him intently, fixing him with identical wide smiles and sea-green eyes.

He made his way over, if only to ensure that Kira didn't meet to her untimely death on his watch.

"Hi, you."

Her voice was exactly the same. Soft and slightly musical. Funny, he expected anyone who had dated Avatar Korra for so long to have earned a raspiness from all the screaming.

"And who is this?" Mako asked, gesturing to the babe whose knees had buckled and was now frantically clawing at the sand. The little one's smile had since been replaced by a scowl, annoyed and surprised that a substance so solid on the ground refused to keep together once in his tight, chubby fist. Mako sympathized. He knew the feeling well.

Over the following hour, Mako learned that the boy's name was Hiro, he was 7 months old and he was one of two children Asami had recently adopted. Her daughter, Kimi, was 3 years old and was being watched by friends back in Republic City while she finalized a contract here in Zaofu for materials.

"Hiro's a bit too young to leave just yet," she explained while bouncing the child on her knee. "He goes where I go. It's tough, but I'm managing with some hired help. I wouldn't trade it for the world."

They parted that day with polite but empty promises to meet up for a meal once they were both back in the city.

Always the engineer, Asami could recognize a faulty structure long before it actually fell apart. She had outgrown the habit of building on unstable foundations. From the moment she had decided she wanted to raise children as well as redirecting the lives of some unfortunate city orphans, steps had been taken to make it happen. It never mattered that those steps took her down different, lonelier paths.

Mako and Kira waved them off as their gorgeous, new satomobile pulled away from the curb. When they disappeared over the horizon, he started to feel strangely satisfied by the feel of his boots sinking into the sand.

It was as if the very earth had finally decided to make room for him.

* * *

More sake was clumsily delivered to her table, the escaped splashes converting her newspaper into something now only useful as a napkin.

A few weeks ago, this may have set her off on a tirade, blaming everything from the server's general incompetence to the pottery maker's faulty design. Lucky for both, she was too exhausted to attempt anything of the sort. Not tonight at least. Not when the wind, rain and humidity were howling just loud enough to set her teeth on edge and keep her skin in a perpetual state of cold, sticky dampness.

Korra pulled the steaming carafe closer to pour herself a cup, purposefully smearing Wu's front page smile as she did so. The cheap rice wine tasted like liquid fire in her veins, warming her hollow places for a glorious few seconds before condensing into the fog which cradled her brain.

She poured herself another. And another, less than a minute later, for lack of anything better to do now that her reading material had been requisitioned.

Then another.

She allowed herself to get just past the point of numbly drunk and bask in its glory before prompting her blood to burn off the excess. The purpose of tonight wasn't to embarrass herself or give the public more ammunition against her causes; it was to simply have some time _not_ feeling.

She should have known that such a luxury, easy and uncomplicated for most, for her would be akin to a sharktopus attempting to live on dry land. Only a few, increasingly painful breaths could be seized before she was dragged back to the depths by instinct. Yet that did not stop her from repeatedly trying to fight both nature and fate.

It was upon her fourth round of this that _he_ decided to walk into that very same izakaya; one that she had purposefully selected for being remote, dark and unpopular enough to retain anonymity. As he sidled up to the bar, his coat and hair dripping dark, blood-like splatters onto the bamboo mats, she acknowledged that the Spirits were most likely toying with her. They were often prone to do so nowadays in an attempt to garner her attention.

Korra made a mental note to track the specific ones responsible and give them a piece of her mind. Or, better yet, a taste of her fists. Most likely it was Shin-Lei and Shu-Lai; twin, flower-like entities that did very much enjoy both entangling and unraveling human lovers. The Spirits' involvement and influence over human affairs was a secret privy only to the Avatar, as people may understandably panic if they knew how much they could control if they wished.

As the bridge between the two, Korra liked to think she was beyond their meddling. She took another, deep gulp of sake and this time let herself marinate if only to prove she could handle it.

"Fine night for forgetting, huh?"

Mako had a glass of amber liquid halfway to his lips, one that the bartender slid over to him without even having to be asked, when he first locked eyes with her.

His expression eventually morphed into one of mild surprise even though the instinctual reaction, which she only caught a glimpse of, was agony. As if her very skin were radiating poison. She recognized the look because, brief though it was, she felt exactly the same.

Mako took a second to consider his glass before downing its entire contents and then moving to join her.

She approved the decision. It made things easier if they were equally muddled.

"So," after gesturing for another dose, he slid into the booth across from her as if that were the plan since the beginning. The eight years that separated them were silently placed on a back burner to simmer and condense. "You and Asami, huh?"

Korra shot him a wry grin, impressed if not annoyed with his daring. "Done. A long time ago. But you knew already that."

Mako's sympathetic smirk was already buried into a fresh glass.

"You? Bolin mentioned something about a girl back in the day," she prayed he didn't pick up on the obvious under-embellishment, as if she hadn't memorized every word about Mako's life that Bolin peppered his letters with. "He implied it was serious."

"Tali." He said the name as if it tasted overly sweet between his teeth. "Tali Linnel. And yes, it is. Sorta."

"' _Sorta_?' _._ How romantic."

"Funny you should say that." A black, velvet jewelry box was tossed onto the table and landed like a gavel. It was impossible to feign anything except shock upon recognizing the item and its implication.

In that moment, eight years may as well have been eight hours. It still felt much too soon. Too much. Too disrespectful of what they once had.

"Congratulations," she deadpanned.

"Thank you."

Dragging the box back into his pocket like a dirty bribe, they then finished their drinks in silence. As impetuous as both were, neither wanted to read too deeply into why their paths crossed tonight of all nights. Neither had to know that the reason they were both in that izakaya was not only to forget, but to wipe the slate clean and jump headfirst into shiny, new futures that were looking grayer by the second.

It was after the third carafe that Korra cracked slightly. The salty truth quickly began to leak and pool and tarnish all in its wake.

"I'm suppose to go back to the South Pole tomorrow," she admitted while using her waterbending to messily refill their cups with trembling fingers. "The papers will say it's because I'm overseeing the building of a new healing center for Katara. They'll say that I'm going to where I'm most needed, to my roots, and I'm redirecting my attention to community betterment now that the government is stable. But…"

 _But I know that everything is on the brink of chaos again, and I feel powerless._

 _But I am succumbing to a near decade of fruitless exhaustion and am giving up._

 _But-_

"But you know me. You know better."

Mako nodded, using his fire to heat her cup until it was steaming once again. Her struggles with the Council and other leaders were widely publicised and especially well known to him. Over the years, he had found himself skimming any and every newspaper he came across for mention of her name. An obvious pattern soon emerged, as the Avatar title became more of a reference and/or footnote more often than a headliner.

She was being phased out.

For Korra, it was a fate worse than death. At least that end came with re-birth and a fresh chance in new, untainted skin.

Now that her demons were exposed, Mako felt it was only polite to offer them company.

"I bought this ring because I'm more likely to get promoted if I'm seen as a stable member of the community. As chief, I can do more to help the city and weed out corruption. Tali's nice. She'll take care of me and vice versa. But..."

 _But I don't love her as much as I should._

 _But she doesn't make me happy, just comfortable._

 _But-_

With her eyes, Korra was both daring him to say it and begging him not to.

Mako was never one to back down from a challenge. "But she's not-. You know."

"Yeah. I know."

The server came to refill their carafe, doing his best to keep out of the way of what appeared to be a marathon staring contest with dire stakes.

All of a sudden, Korra realised that this was the first time she had seen Mako since Asami left her. And without that beautiful girl's brilliance by her side, she was reminded of the shadow he had always cast; a monstrosity of jealousy and anger and resentment and so many other factors that had led to their inevitable severance. There was also, undeniably, that same omnipresent, near-suffocating heat that had inspired her younger self to kiss him while knowing he was spoken for.

As teenagers, it was enough to be attracted to and impressed by one another and label it a lasting love. As adults, they both knew it was much more complicated and way less to do with passions. It was parallel goals, schedules, hopes and dreams that made a relationship last. Mako remembered thinking how lucky he was after his first date with Tali. The girl was beautiful and kind and positive and, more importantly than her liking him, she _understood_ the pressures and expectations of his job. She brought him and his colleagues fresh baked sticky buns every Tuesday. She attended functions on his arm, not a minute late, wearing her mother's borrowed pearls and a gown always on the perfect border of tasteful yet decadent. She loved his niece almost as much as he did, and arranged their visits as often as his schedule allowed.

She was good for and to him.

Korra was not. As evidenced by her filling his cup for what was probably the fifteenth time. She was still needy and morose. The dark green, threadbare parka she wore as well as her shoulder length hair piled messily on her head reminded him that she would never be a woman whose purpose would be to enhance her partner. Korra was not an accessory. She was the center, the leader, or nothing. She dominated constantly and relished it. Every place except one…

Mako involuntarily blushed as he couldn't help but remember events long since buried for the sake of his sanity. Those few fevered evenings involving newly minted handcuffs, bites that broke skin, glowing eyes and charred head boards. When he was too young and inexperienced to understand what was to be considered normal, and to realize and appreciate that the Avatar was far from it in more ways than one.

"What?" Korra asked, a smirk in place as if she knew very well what was going on inside his head.

"Nothing." Mako shook the memories away like cobwebs.

Tonight he was having drinks with a friend to celebrate their soon-to-be revamped situations.

Tomorrow, he would proposed to Tali and likely be elected chief by the Council before his 35th birthday, right on schedule. Maybe afterward he'd change his mind about having his own children. Korra would quickly grow to enjoy her time in the south with her family, taking a well deserved break from politics as well as focusing more on individual citizens and spirits as the need arose.

This was to be a celebratory wake of an old, honestly wretched chapter in their lives and nothing more.

"To new and better beginning!" Korra toasted a little more loudly than would be considered polite. Mako laughed and raised his cup in solidarity until both rims boisterously kissed.

"Ditto!"

* * *

It was the rain's fault.

At least that's what Korra told herself.

After closing down the izakaya, they discovered that the sky was still raging with the ferocity of an angry, mother saber-tooth moose-lion who had just misplaced two cubs. Therefore, Mako _had_ to escort her to her nearby hotel if only so that she could partake in the flimsy protection of his umbrella. It was his duty as a gentleman if not a police officer. And Korra _had_ to invite him up to her room to dry off and wait out the storm's climax, for it was only polite to do for an old friend.

What happened next was totally the rain's fault. No question.

Regardless of it orchestrating the convenience, it had also heightened her senses. Things long since buried in the basement of her thoughts were now floating up and breaking the surface as a result of the flood. She was leaning on him as they entered the elevator, giggling as those in a state of utter inebriation are prone to do without reason, and at such a vantage point she couldn't help but notice how the water highlighted his skin. The wetness made the thin material of his coat cling to what were still the same impressively muscular arms and shoulders on a lean frame. She was riveted by the droplets clinging to the stubble on his jaw before they succumbed to gravity and ran down his neck to whatever sweet haven lay beneath the collar.

The rain reminded her of how damn beautiful he still was.

In a different way than Asami, of course. Where the heiress had been all silk and perfume, the officer was leather and sweat. Opposites and yet equally appealing in their own rights. Tonight she was notably being drawn toward one direction. If only because it had been longer since sampled.

When the elevator arrived, she stumbled in beside him, too distracted to properly place one foot in front of the other. The doors closed and blanketed them with enticing solitude, heavy with the hope - the _expectation_ \- of something...invigorating. Something that could gloss over the dull days coming, if only temporarily.

She couldn't stop herself anymore than she could stop the pull of the tides or resist greedily gulping down a glass of water after days in the desert.

As if it were the most natural thing in the world, Korra bent a few droplets together on his skin and her lips reached out to taste the resulting, particularly juicy looking bead just to the right of his adam's apple. She grinned as his whiskers tickled her nose and cheek, never having experienced such a strange sensation. Back in their younger days, he was barely old enough to shave and with Asami - well, obviously such a thing had never been a factor with her.

Without bothering to think about it, she tilted her head to seek more of that sweet water, gripped with an undeniable need. Up his neck, to his ear, her tongue darting out to gather as much as possible, her powers seeking the moisture in his clothing and evaporating it wherever her palms made contact.

She told herself she was simply thirsty. It was the damn humidity messing with her temperament. What was Mako's excuse for latching his teeth onto her earlobe in response? She would probably never know. Perhaps he was hungry. Ravenous, in fact, judging by how quickly he clawed at the neck of her parka to expose more skin. Perhaps that soon-to-be fiance of his was generous with her baked goods and nothing else.

The elevator was a slow moving, rickety thing and her room was on the top floor. She estimated at least two minutes in this limbo where logic did not exist. This dance had once been a regularly practiced speed event for them; an exhilarating race played out in bison stables, locker rooms, broom closets and even the odd public lavatory. There hadn't been much of a choice when an army of adults had constant close eyes on her and privacy was never complete.

Two minutes. It could be enough time. It had to be.

With curled fingers, she yanked at his lapels so that his body pinned her against the wall and inspired him to lift her onto the rusted, brass railing so that her toes barely touched the ground. He groaned against her neck and she parroted the primal sound with relish, whispering a quiet "yes" to let him know that it was all right. It was more than alright. That if he didn't follow through with what was surely now in progress, she'd air blast him off the roof the instant they got up there.

There was a flurry of slippery leather belts and tangled drawstrings and then he was _there_. It felt like coming home after a long journey. His hands began shaking at the sheer intensity of it while Korra lost her ability to breathe for long seconds. Everything was familiar and yet those slight differences were much more pronounced and appreciated. In addition to the stubble, she wasn't used to the hair product that kept his unruly mane in place, but it smelled like ash and cinnamon and warmth. For Mako, her shorter hair was proving to be a welcome change for it was easier to wrap around his fingers without tangling and pull just hard enough to make her wince, the way she used to ask him to do those last handful of times they had been together.

The chime of the elevator arriving was drowned out by rapid breaths and the knocking of her back against the wall as they moved together. Korra barely noticed the doors opening out of the corner of her eye. She had just enough sense left to realize that a) they couldn't stay put and b) that two minutes was not enough time. Not by a long shot.

They had years to make up for; a past to properly mourn.

Somehow, Mako ended up with his bare back pressed into the cold floor tiles at the entrance of her hotel room with Korra above him. Korra riding him with savagery never before seen, her hair a tangled mess, her wet and tattered parka falling off one shoulder and her nails desperately digging into his hips, forcing him closer. Deeper.

He had never been more aroused nor humbled by any other sight in his life.

She came quietly, as she was prone to do, but the intensity of it was showcased by spasming thighs and the way she slumped forward onto his chest, boneless, unable to hold herself up. He hardly noticed following shortly after her, for he had been on the brink since the moment her lips touched his skin what felt like ages ago.

Though brief, the coupling was no doubt the most invigorating they had ever had together, considering that each now had a couple of years practice and alternate partners to compare. But it wasn't a relief. Not in any way, shape or form.

If anything, he grew exceedingly tense as soon as they were finished. He could feel Korra's body following suit as it settled down from its high and heavy fragments of reality hitched a ride along the way.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled into his collar before abruptly pulling herself off of him.

He lay there sharing looks of utter bewilderment with a cockroach crawling across the ceiling as she gathered fresh clothing, slammed the bathroom door and started the shower.

When she returned to the room, rubbing a towel aggressively over her head as if trying to manually erase memories, Mako was gone.

Good.

She had a boat to catch. The storm had long since drowned her ability to feel anything other than tired.

It was the damn rain.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Long story short, this is a one shot I started write-doodling after the finale to make myself feel better and as a semi re-write of "The Knot" which was completed after Book 2. Of course, it ended up being ridiculously long so I had to split it. After much review reading and deep thought, I eventually came to accept Korrasami even though I still believe Makorra to be endgame in the long run. Not because Asami was a "phase" or anything, as many fics I've read have implied, but because I still don't think they are good for one another. Especially Korra for Asami (she's a beautiful heiress. She can do better! Haha). I think Asami needs someone more stable and ambitious while Korra she needs someone more stern to keep her balanced. I feel this way because I've seen it played out in real life.

Long story: My best friend, let's call her "Kanny", always reminded me of Korra. She's a larger than life personality who is always loud, commanding, and is known to piss me off on many an occasion just for being too brash or making what I consider stupid decisions. Still, no matter what comment or action has led to my anger, I know her heart is always in the right place. She will always apologise and explain and I'll always understand and we'll always make up. Her life is still a lot less predictable than mine and she likes it that way. In comparison, I am quite the stick in the mud.

She is also bisexual.

When Korra ended I was originally shocked and confused by Bryke's pairing choice, but in comparing her to my friend I think I finally understand if not appreciate the character's tangent. Kanny has dated many men, but her longest and strongest relationships have always been with women...this goes for female family, friends _and_ lovers. She has loved men and is definitely attracted, but has never fully connected to one. Some may call it "daddy issues" (and there is no doubt that her father is indeed a negative factor), but I choose to call it a sensitivity preference.

After the finale, the comparison to Korra was never so strong. I thank this friend of mine for helping me see what Bryke was trying to show even though they probably should have "grown a vagina" (alternate version of "grow some balls" since vaginas are so much tougher) and fully represented and supported homosexual relationships in advance of the finale. It would have been a lot easier to understand and accept if there was any minute implication that such pairings existed in the Avatar universe even as background characters.

After a 4 year on and off relationship with a great but uncertain woman, Kanny recently started dating a new guy. Things are going well so far and I wish the best for them, not because he's male but because he is a better support for her. As a forever Makorra fan, I do not believe Korrasami is endgame nor is it a phase. I believe it is yet another step in Korra's journey which will help shape her into a great adult let alone Avatar. After all, most people don't end up marrying the person they date at 21.

Well, I did, but that's another story.

I also want to take the opportunity to thank my new daughter, Kira (real name originally inspired by the Dark Crystal character, but it is not lost on me that Korra could have had some influence), for helping me be more open minded. My reaction to the finale, a week before she was born, was primarily negative and I wanted to cleanse my broken heart of all Makorra fragments even though it had been such a large part of my life for so long. Now I see that I can still love these characters for their pasts and still unrecorded futures.

I hope you enjoyed reading my take. Part II coming soon. I was going to end it here, but i felt like adding some soap opera drama to humor myself and vere on a different path from my other fic "The Knot". Please leave any questions or comments and I would be happy to reply.


	2. Part II

**-. Better Beginnings .-**

 **PART II**

The first hint that he had had too much was when Deputy Thermin pried the glass out of his hand. More specifically, it was the first hint that warranted actual attention.

The awkward winces from other patrons, the colleagues who, one-by-one, took their leave and the bartender himself muttering "are you sure, buddy?" upon ordering another round...that evidence was labelled _anecdotal_ and tossed to the bottom of his mind's well where it kept company with long division and radio jingles.

An intervention by Deputy Thermin however, as both a wunderkind prosecutor and the Chief's most trusted aide, could not be ignored. When such a man decided that the evening had met its messy end, Mako knew there was nothing to do except submit and be taken into custody.

"She was it. Ya know?" he slurred toward no one in particular, blinking away blindness caused by the street lamp's glare. "I was supposed to be...done. Balanced. I'm so tired. So very, very _tired_..." Whether because he needed to verbalize this long neglected fact or because Thermin just had that sort of influence over the feeble minded, he did not know. All he could be certain of was that everything, his entire existence up until this point, was _her_ fault; the good, the bad and the presently unstable.

Somehow, the two men had managed to stumble to the nearby precinct so that Mako could sleep it off in his office.

The self-convicting confessions continued well into dawn.

"...I tried. I tried so _damn_ hard and it still wasn't enough. She lied. She said we were meant to be and then just...she choose _her_. Like that!" He attempted to snap his fingers for emphasis, but it barely made a sound. "I thought I was done. I was free. And she came back. Why? Who does that if they sincerely, honestly, once believed that she, that _we-_ we _weren't_ meant for each other? Right? We were. Were...we?"

Thermin wisely remained mute as he shook out one of the flannel blankets used to console victims left in the cold. It would be fulfilling its purpose tonight.

In between mumbles of "how dare!" and "damn selfish." and finally, a brokenly whispered " _I'll always_...", Mako succumbed to the poison he'd been drowning in and lost consciousness.

As the Deputy closed the office door behind him, he had no choice but to meet the stares of the six other detectives on graveyard duty. None of which could even attempt to feign obliviousness.

Chief Mako was their rock. Chief Mako was notoriously sturdy, impervious and professional. He was the man everyone wanted to be and every girl wanted to marry. He had it all: the job, the looks, the genuine bravery and honor, the woman _._ And not just any woman. Tali Linnel from the Republic City Gazette; a nearly stereotypical girl-next-door fantasy, who was already hinting around town of their impending engagement. The man had absolutely no excuse to fall apart. It was as though everyone in that bullpen was witnessing their father bawling just because he had spotted an especially vivid rainbow. Even the phones stayed silent in apparent awe of a fallen hero.

Thermin, personifying his superior's pride, could not handle another second of their suffocating disappointment.

"Isn't there anyone breaking the law tonight, ladies and gentlemen?" he barked. "Get back to work!"

The phones immediately rang, papers were shuffled, criminals loudly resisted arrest. Instant business as usual. Though he knew there was no way to effectively nip any rumors stemmed from this evening, he had every confidence that Chief Mako would prove it to be a rare, one-night act.

No one had to know that this prodigy persona of his, the very reason he had risen to such as high level of government so quickly, was the result of an annoyingly simple and human event:

Nearly a decade ago, there was a girl - not just any girl and by far, not a girl-next-door - who had encased his fiery heart in ice.

Mix in a little too much flammable substance and one inevitably starts to crack.

* * *

"I am pleased to declare the Katara Memorial Healing Center officially open!"

Chief Tonraq sliced the ribbon with a pair of comically giant scissors, smiling awkwardly toward a barrage of camera flashes as he did so. The strange stunt was for the sake of the many Republic press members mulling about, most of whom would have considered the Southern Water Tribe's traditional, tigershark-blood initiation just a tad unpalatable for their polished pages.

Attempting to appear natural, the Chief chanced a glance skywards toward his daughter hiding in the rafters. Waiting. As soon as the crowd dispersed, the _real_ christening of this center would take place in the old ways of their people.

It would be what Master Katara would want.

It took nearly an hour of questions, chit-chat and bad puns before the cameras blinked themselves to sleep and their owners returned, shivering, to their hotels for the night. Only then did the ruling family feel comfortable enough to start the true ritual and Avatar Korra descended from the shadows. She scaled the ice wall with a caution that implied she was new at such feats, pausing every few feet to consider her next step. Eventually, she joined her father at the threshold with her waterskin filled with blood already in hand.

"I didn't think you'd come," Tonraq whispered, nervously casting a glance over his shoulder. "I thought you weren't ready to be in public."

Korra said nothing as she unstoppered the skin with her teeth and began pouring into the grooves of the tribe symbol carved onto the entrance pavilion, hoping the action made obvious that she had little time to waste.

He took the hint and morphed his features into what could resemble indifference as he helped spread the crimson liquid. Still, after a minute, he could not help but offer something. It was in any father's genes. "I know it's hard and that you don't feel ready yet...still, I'm sure Katara would appreciate you being here today. I'm sure she'd want you to get back to your duties and destiny as soon as possible."

"I'm sure _Katara-_ " she spat the name, infuriated that he try to use it in such a conniving manner, "would have appreciated dying in her bed, surrounded by her family. But we can't all get want we want out of life, huh dad?"

"What happened wasn't your fault. She was an old woman, Korra. It was her time. It was just bad luck that-"

"It's done. I'm leaving." Her duty complete, Korra tossed the empty skin away and gave as deep a bow as possible without wincing toward the sculpture of her waterbending master. Tonraq watched longingly, realizing the likelihood of being blasted into a wall if he dared put one unwelcome digit in her space was especially high. Her temperament was particularly unstable these past few months. With good reason.

"When will I see you next?"

"After everything is back to normal."

"And when will that be?"

"Eventually."

"Korra…Korra, please, I-"

" _ **Avatar**_ Korra!?" Both father and daughter froze as the unmistakable flash of a camera highlighted the space around them, forcing their shadows onto Katara's sculpted face. A lingering paparazzi member stepped out from behind a column where she had been trying to fix her equipment strap when she couldn't help but overhear and react. "Is that really you, Avatar?"

Seeing Korra's fingers beginning to twitch and knowing how long it had been since she'd last tested her bending powers, Tonraq stepped in.

"Please direct any and all questions to me, miss. Avatar Korra is still on sabbatical and is only here to pay tribute to Master Katara. She will be addressing the public during a scheduled conference in the new year."

"Yes. Yes, of course. I just- I just wanted to see if-"

"You wanted to make sure I hadn't completely disappeared again?" Slowly, if only to prove to her father that she could handle anything with the grace and dignity her position required, Korra faced the stupidly brave reporter.

She was a pretty, young thing. Blonde hair cut short and curled around her ears in a fashionable bob, hazel eyes attractively magnified by red, horn-rimmed glasses with lips and nails painted to match. Unlike most jaded professionals in her field, the girl's expression still dared to show excitement with the hope of getting an inside scoop to catapult her to the front page.

Korra had little patience for the naive nowadays. "What's your name?" she asked, tone hinting that she was asking in case of a lawsuit rather than make friends.

The optimistic girl chose to translate an invitation to scramble up the steps. "Tali!" she said while eagerly reaching out and grabbing her hand to shake. "From the _Talk to Tali_ column of the Republic City Gazette? It is an honor to meet you!"

The scolding she had prepared died in her throat.

"Tali...Linnel?" she asked cautiously, wrestling her suddenly sweaty palm free.

The reporter's smile widened to near blinding proportions. "Yes! Wow! You're a reader? I know it's not exactly 'interviews with world leaders' type stuff, my last series being the top ten ways to remove stains, but the usual field guy was sick and when this assignment got posted I just _had_ to-"

"No, no. Wait. That's not- I just," Korra took a deep breath to regain a foothold on seemingly crumbling foundation. "I...I'm just, I was, friends with Mak-I mean, _Chief_ Mako. He, um, he told me about you. I didn't know you worked for the Gazette."

"Oh…" discomfort flashed through her expression but was quickly laughed off. "Oh, right! I keep forgetting you two had a thing back in the day. Before the, you know...team switch." A hand immediately flew to cover her mouth. "Oh my, that was rude! Sorry. I didn't mean to be rude!"

Korra's lip twitched, unable to resist feeling amused. Much like how a polar bear-dog could not help but be amused by a particularly lively salmon-goose. "That's actually one of the more polite ways I've heard it described. Don't worry."

"Yes, well. Sorry, regardless."

As she lifted an ungloved hand to push her hair behind her ears, Korra caught a glimpse of a ring on her finger. The flash of the stone in the sunlight triggered a tsunami of ice throughout her network veins, to a point where she felt blissfully numb.

"Congratulations by the way. To you and the Chief," she said with what could barely pass for enthusiasm. When she appeared confused, Korra gestured to the accessory that had had many guest appearances in her nightmares.

Tali glanced at her finger as if seeing it for the first time and was then vigorously shaking her head. "Oh no! No. No. Sorry! But no. This-this is just a shiny bauble from a friend. Mako and I have been over for ages. So, no. Your father mentioned something about your sabbatical ending soon? Can you possibly expand-?"

"What do you mean by 'over''?" It was Tonraq who stepped in, knowing that Korra's pride wouldn't allow her to delve further. As expected, she shot him a glare of disapproval and yet didn't interrupt or redirect.

"Well, um, Chief Tonraq, if you must know..." both could tell it was taking all of the reporter's many years of etiquette lessons not to squirm under their matching, blue-eyed stares. "As great a guy as he is, Mako wasn't exactly husband and father material."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, all those late, danger filled missions, too tired to barely put a sentence together the few times we did manage to get out on the town. Waiting by the phone every night for bad news wasn't exactly how I saw my futur-"

The words drowned out as Korra, stoic and silent up until this point, was hit with a wave a nausea so intense that she could not help but sway on her feet. Tonraq instantly moved to steady her even though he perfectly predicted her reaction of wrenching free.

"I'm **fine** , dad," she spat with such vehemence that Tali gasped in surprise.

As tempting as it was to slink back into her private abyss and block out all sunlight for weeks to come, remnants of Korra's civil-servant self could not help but make a cameo appearance and toss the girl some scraps. "Let me state, for the record, that I am mourning Master Katara's loss as one would a grandmother and best friend. I will be continuing my sabbatical abroad for several weeks before returning here in late summer to ensure this center is well established and her students are comfortably carrying on her work. I owe her that much. I owe her everything."

That was more true than anyone would ever dare to believe.

"Please let the world know that I am still here. I just need time. Can you do that?"

Tali was already writing it down. " _Just. Need. Time..._ Got it! Thank you!" And with that, she wisely scampered away down the steps as fast as her heeled boots allowed.

As Korra headed back to her hut, a camouflaged structure built a kilometer off the main road and camps, her father dared to follow.

"Don't say a word," she warned while bringing her hood up as both a disguise and protection against the howling wind.

Tonraq copied her lead. "I wasn't going to."

This lasted only another ten feet.

"But if I _was_ -"

"Ug. Here we go…"

"Korra, I think it's time."

"That is not for you to decide." She quickened her steps with the help of bended ice boots in an attempt to escape. All that did was enhance the pain to the point that she had to stop for a minute to banish black spots from her vision and Tonraq easily fell into pace beside her. "You said no questions. You said it was complicated. I understood. But it seems much less complicated now and I don't understand why you won't even _try_ to-"

"You're making several wild assumptions here. _He_ has nothing to do with this. Even if he did, it's none of your business, so stay out of it!"

At long last, her hut came into view. The sight gave her enough of an energy boost that she flew towards it on a summoned gust of air, ignoring the searing pain which threatened to rip the fragile flesh of her abdomen apart, that is until she moved beyond the skin door.

The space was hot. Too hot. So much so that she needed to immediately shimmy out of her parka just to be able to breathe.

It was also loud. A screeching wail permeated the space, acting as a vice against her already sensitive temples.

"Korra? Is that you?" Quickly, she wiped away the moisture that had unwittingly gathered in the corners of her eyes.

"Yes! It's me." With nothing other than a sniff to prepare, Korra stepped into the main room to greet her mother. Senna was nestled in a rocking chair by a roaring fire, jiggling a bundle of thick fur pelts to her chest and smiling as if all was right in the world, even though it sounded as though the world was ending. "Sorry that took so long. What's wrong?"

"Oh, just hungry, as usual. You were exactly the same."

Korra almost smiled at such a delicious example of karma. Almost. "I'll take care of it. You can go. Dad's waiting outside."

"Just a minute more please! I know I won't get much of a chance after-" she caught herself with a whimper, eyes poignantly leaving her daughter's to focus on rearranging the pelts in her arms. Thankfully, there wasn't much of Korra's heart left to shatter.

"You know I don't have a choice."

"I know. I understand."

Senna didn't understand, actually. Not one bit. The only thing she did know, from experience, was that trying to prod Korra in any alternate direction would permanently damage their relationship.

The Avatar strode forward and swept the bundle out of mother's arms as though removing a super glued bandage. "I said I got it, Mom. You should go."

A protest was dangling on her lips but dissolved like snowflakes once she met her daughter's stare. Korra's pupils were like pin pricks, even in this shadowed space, and the once bright azure coloring had since dulled to an almost iron grey.

Frankly, this version of Korra's eyes frightened her. Even more than the Avatar State's glow.

"Yes. Yes, you're right. I'm sorry. I-I'll go now."

As soon as the skins closed behind her mother's figure, a suffocating silence pressed upon Korra's shoulders let a wet fur coat.

The baby had fallen asleep.

She wrestled between elation and quiet relief. As she took her mother's place in the rocking chair, she wondered if everything she touched, from here on out, would inevitably turn solemn.

* * *

"So how are you feeling today, Chief?"

Mako sighed.

What an irritatingly impossible question to answer.

Perhaps angry. For sure frustrated. A little disappointed. Left out. Stuck. Dissatisfied. Lonely. Nervous. Lost. Thirsty.

Very thirsty.

There were over one hundred adjectives he could have used but none of which he believed Dr. Feinz deserved. At this phase of his life, Mako was in a comfortably committed relationship with apathy.

Spirits _,_ did he need a drink.

"Mako…" as if reading his mind, it was the doctor's turn to sigh as he flipped his notebook shut, leather chair creaking as he leaned forward. Though Dr. Feinz was but a thin-haired, spectacled, rail of a man, his frustrated glare reminded Mako of Lightning Bolt Zolt when one of the runners dared to show up short changed. Nothing good ever followed that glare. "Are we seriously doing this again? Are you just going to sit in silence for the next several, indefinite sessions?"

Yes, Mako thought.

"No." Mako said.

The doctor began rubbing the skin between his brows.

"Fine. Let's go through the list of what you don't want to talk about, shall we? You don't want to talk about your parent's murder, correct?"

"Correct. What's done is done."

"And you don't want to talk about your childhood on the streets?"

"No. I'm beyond that."

"Alrighty. And we're not going to talk about the binges that resulted in you being here. Even though you need my confirmation of your stability or risk losing your job, is that right?"

Mako's eye instinctively began to twitch, which prompted him to hastily slap a hand to his face. "I made a few mistakes. I'm human, aren't I?"

"You've made, let's see here," as cocky as always, the doctor consulted the notes they both knew he had long since memorized. " _Four_ such mistakes in six months, all resulting in arrest. And I'm sure those are just the times you weren't recognized and got caught."

"Is there a point to this?"

"Yes. The point for me is that I'm doing a favor to a friend who, I confess, scares me. Chief Beifong was forced out of retirement to cover you and is not happy about it. The point for you is to finally deal with whatever trauma is inspiring these episodes and at least become a non-threat to society if not a happy person. Deal?"

Mako said nothing.

"Fine. I was hoping to save this until we got to know each other a little better, but let's just dive in. Tell me about your relationship with Miss. Tali Linnel."

Oddly enough, she was the only thing he did feel comfortable talking about, if only because she didn't matter. Not anymore. "There is no longer a relationship with Miss. Linnel. In fact, she's seeing my Deputy now."

"And that must have at least rattled that empty cage you call a heart, no? Some of your colleagues seem to believe that ending triggered all this. Are they right?"

It was true that the night he ended things with Tali was the night he started spiraling. It was a night he was trying, desperately, to forget. He hated that to the untrained eye she could be considered the stem of his degradation, as that was both a blame and an endearment that she didn't deserve. Someone, at the very least a person who had the ability to put him back on the job sooner rather than later, had to know the semi-truth.

Chief Mako wasn't so weak that a mere woman would cause him to fall apart.

Not just any human woman could do that.

"It's not what you think," he whispered as the silence put on weight. "I ended it because it was the right thing to do."

"The right thing to do, eh? Huh. Interesting." He scribbled some more into his notes, thankfully missing Mako's eye roll.

"I saw that."

Or so he thought.

"You know what. I can't help you like this. You're too...let's say _independent_. So I'm gonna simply prescribe something and hope for the best."

"I don't need drugs." Of that, Mako stood firmly. From his time wandering the streets as both an orphan and a beat cop, he had seen too many people fall victim to the comfort of manufactured dreams. In his current state, he didn't think he'd ever willingly wake up.

"That is the understatement of the century, my boy. My pet hyena-iguana is better equipped to handle opiates than you right now. Here."

The doctor ripped a paper off his pad and slapped it to Mako's chest. He was surprised by how much the gesture stung without the thick, protective fabric of his uniform coat. "Now go away. I'll see you next week."

It was nearing midnight by the time he bothered to read the prescription. Hunched over a box of cold noodles, Mako dragged the crumpled note from his pocket and smoothed it out with one hand while the other was occupied with chopsticks

Dr. Feinz's instruction was so simple and yet incredibly ridiculous. He almost choked on his dinner as an initial half chortle, half whimper fell from his lips.

 _Fall in love with something. Anything._

It took a moment to digest; the message doing a running circuit around his brain, bringing to light the dustiest, dark corners he had either ignored and drowned out for months. Eventually, the chopsticks clattered to the table, abandoned as the note once again crumpled in his clenched fist.

In therapy, Mako believed this would be what they called a "breakthrough".

* * *

Korra didn't cry. Not one, single tear. Not while packing the set of feeding skins and the tiny carved bowl, not when folding the parka her mother had made, not even when bundling up the baby for what would be the final time. Senna could do nothing but watch, expecting and hoping for some - _any_ \- reaction. She herself had already shed enough tears to fill an ocean ever since Korra made the decision final.

" _It'll be better taken care of,"_ was the atrociously weak excuse she originally offered.

" _I can't handle this. Not now. Not ever,"_ she stated more firmly once Senna started offering daily bribes. From all of her time, to every yuan they had, to her very own blood, she had been desperate to inspire a change of plans.

By the final week, Korra stopped bothering with explanations. Everything was sorted. The child was to be sent to the Fire Nation. It would live as normal a life as possible in the care of a couple whose most desperate wish was that a woman like Korra became desperate enough to bless them as parents.

The eagerness and appreciation which saturated their letters and radio conferences was almost enough to convince Korra it was worth going through it all.

Almost.

"You'll make sure it gets there safe?" Korra asked as she handed the satchel filled with clothing and various other accessories over to her father. She had had no choice but to accept his help for this last step. Though still the Southern Chief, Tonraq had proved he was much better at blending in than she. Not to mention, a lengthy sea voyage in her state would have been the epitome of hell. Senna would have been the ideal candidate, but she didn't believe she had the ability to see the errand through. Standing idly by was tortuous enough.

Tonraq on the other hand, seemed almost grateful when she had asked, apparently eager to run the dire delivery and get his normal, smiling daughter back to her destiny. At the time, Korra didn't have the mental capacity to question.

"Everything will be fine, Korra. I promise." He said this in a whisper and then, in a feat of daring, reached out to trail his fingers down her cheek like he used to when she was a child. She let him. It was she could offer as thanks.

The baby was sleeping when she handed it over, wrapped tightly in a red shawl that it had become oddly attached to. It was almost always sleeping or pensively staring, barring the alarms of hunger every 3-5 hours. Had anything about this been normal, she may have considered herself lucky to have had such a calm child. Had this been normal - expected - she probably could have been amused by all the similarities to _him_.

If.

So many ifs.

"I'll see you in a week."

The following hours were purposefully blocked from her memory. She didn't remember her father saying goodbye. She didn't remember seeing the two of them walk away into the raging blizzard outside. Within an hour, she could hardly remember its face.

Sitting alone in the middle of her hut, legs crossed and arms resting loosely on her knees, Korra took a deep, chi-cleansing breath.

It was finally over.

As she entered the Spirit World for the first time in nearly a year, aching for it's warmth, she could barely feign surprise upon discovering that all was dark and nearly empty; a blank canvas with only grayscale paints on her palette.

Seeing no other choice, Korra got to work.

* * *

Mako was trying to follow instructions. He really was. Beifong had made it perfectly clear that his badge would be off limits until Dr. Feinz deemed him fit for service. Therefore, with the same enthusiasm he kept for dental cleanings and papercuts, Mako tried.

First he tried falling in love with books.

In the empty days post-Korra, without having a companion to entertain nor the necessity of wranglings yuans every spare second, he remembered finding comfort in the dusty, leather-bound volumes Jinora lent to him. Even after half-jokingly being threatened with air-decapitation should one page become creased, he was grateful.

He remembered delving into a history text from the Fire Nation and becoming riveted by tales of noble, heroic lightning benders who honed their battle skill into an art form. It was engrossing enough that the few times Asami stopped by unannounced, he felt more annoyed at leaving a chapter unfinished than happy to see her.

That should have been a sign, he supposed.

It took a few hours of self-flagellation, but he eventually got off the couch, showered and made his way to the library at the city center. He had always known the building existed, mainly because the dumpster in the back had been a drop spot when he worked for the Triple Threats, but never dared to enter. It had always seemed too regal. Even now, after having attended hundreds of prestigious events, he hesitated to pass the threshold; worried some sort of alarm may mark him as an uneducated intruder.

With nothing other than an ID and an awkward, forced-smile photograph, Mako was somehow allowed to leave with a tottering pile of books on subjects ranging from historical-fiction-romance to fishing-for-dummies. He read more that following month than he had his entire life. Though he appreciated how it kept his mind off things, how time passed faster when immersed between dusty pages, still...

It wasn't love.

Next, per Dr. Feinz not-so-subtle suggestion, he tried to fall in love with a human. Despite the crawling sensation under his skin as he signed the contract, Mako registered with a local match-maker; a relic business from the Fire Nobles who still dotted the city and wouldn't dare to date anyone without a thorough family schematic, blood sample and bank statement. Right off the bat, his dual heritage and lack of living parents marked him as undesirable, but this was balanced by his Chief of Police title as well as being one of the apparently rare "easy-on-the-eyes" candidates. He didn't dare inform them his job title was precarious as they probably wouldn't return his signup fee.

The first matchup was with a woman named Adi and she was, at the very least, proof that the agency had done their homework. A firebender of the highest standards, she had been team captain of the Red Sands Rabaroos for three years before retiring to take over her father's carpentry business after he was injured. She was beautiful, she was smart, she took work and bending as seriously as he did and - the best thing about her - she thought this whole matchmaking process to be absolutely insane. She only participated to silence a nagging mother who spouted daily reminders that the best years were behind her and she needed to settle before both parents dropped dead.

Mako could tell at a glance take Adi didn't need or want anyone to take care of her.

It was strange to be on a date with someone you once fire punched off a four story platform, but also refreshing. At the end of the night they shook hands and promised to meet up again to watch the new slew of bender rookies duke it out.

Both could tell that it was a completely empty promise, despite the easy flow of conversation all evening.

Two months and eighteen decreasingly favorable match meetings later, Mako cancelled his account with the service. And no, they didn't return his sign up fee. As elusive as love was, he knew he wouldn't find it playing a lottery of random women praying to hit a jackpot soulmate. Love grows where love is already rooted. Thus, again at Dr. Feinz's insistence, he decided to try pruning some existing relationships.

The easiest one with which to practice was his niece, Kira, now seven years old and a force to be reckoned since discovering she was an earthbender. He moved into Opal and Bolin's guest space above their garage in Zaofu, rising at dawn every morning and prodding Kira to follow so that they could practice hand-to-hand combat in addition to pro-bending maneuvers.

She was incredibly easy to love. Wholeheartedly. The best part was that it was reciprocal for once. He understood that she was slightly attention starved since the birth of her second sister, Jade, and brand new brother, Reno, who loudly demanded constant consolation. They shared the older sibling burden among so many other things.

It was on the sixth week of this routine, just when Mako had grown comfortable with the idea of permanently settling in Zaofu, that a ragged-looking Bolin pulled him aside.

"I mean this in the nicest way possible," he began, fingers pressed into his eyebrows as if afraid they'd slip off his face. "You gotta go. And not just because I feel myself barely holding back from punching you on a daily basis, but because you don't belong here."

Mako learned that his brother's family did not so much appreciate his presence, as merely tolerated it. Temporarily. The diet and training regiment he had coaxed them all to follow was making the already maddening situation of a colicy baby that much more unbearable. And Kira, his delightful protege, she was practically killing herself to keep up to her uncle's standards, which resulted in showing up to school late, unable to sit due to bruises and falling asleep in class.

"My kid is not one of your officers, nor will I let her be a mere distraction project. Go home. Figure out _your_ life! We'll be happy to have you back once things calm down. But only for a night or two."

Nursing a wounded ego as well as extreme guilt for abandoning the amazing Kira just after becoming thorough attached, Mako saw no choice but to tear free and make the journey back to Republic City. Coincidentally, his train pulled in on exactly the six month anniversary since his forced sabbatical. He arrived home in the dead of night and fell onto the couch in his dust covered, spartan apartment decorated with dead plants and unread mail.

Welcome back to square one.

He had his jacket back on and was debating which izakaya he had more of a chance of making last call, when a knock sounded at the door.

Very few people knew his home address, none of which he could bare to face right then, and yet he forced himself to place his hand on the knob anyway. With any luck, if any guardian Spirit dared to care, the visitor would be one of those illegal door-to-door sake salesmen.

Mako had tried, so desperately, to change. Really change.

The once polished Chief was now considered a lost cause; a once beautiful mannequin broken beyond repair despite the still pristine accessories.

He wanted to start over. To go back. To keep _her_ and know that she was enough.

What he didn't expect, could not have foreseen when opening his door, was Chief Tonraq of the Southern Water Tribe stepping over the threshold.

"Chief Mako," he greeted, tone and expression studious as if performing a ceremony. He then tugged at the bundle of fabric in his arms until a squirming, amber-eyed infant was revealed. Tonraq the held it out in offering. "I believe this...This _is_ your daughter."

 _Fall in love with something._

 _Anything._

Just like that, with shaking hands, Mako accepted a new beginning.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** As often happens with me, my short, fluffy one-shot fic not only expanded but attracted some additional, soap-opera drama. I have already written a more realistic, typical ending with "The Knot" where Mako and Korra live out separate, adult lives, perhaps hooking up in dire moments but otherwise remaining single until their deaths, always loving one another from afar.

I wanted to try something new. I also wanted to be cheesy. I think the saddest take away from the Korra finale is that everyone _but_ Mako has a clear direction laid out for them. After spending so many years both loving and being frustrated with the guy, I needed to offer him a new fate which tied him to Korra.

Part III coming soon. Many thanks for your notes and reviews as they make my day and inspire me to write faster.

Makorra forever.


	3. Part III

**-. Better Beginnings .-**

 **PART III**

"I know you're blind, but I didn't think you were also deaf! How many times do I have to tell you to _stay still_?"

In a once pristinely decorated room in Zaofu's Healing Center, Toph and Korra stared each other down, both vying for alpha status even though it had long since been deemed a lose-lose battle. A janitorial staffer came in humming, took one look at the scene and wisely chose to back away. Judging by the streaks of mud decorating the walls and torn up furniture, he had probably expected to a pack of rabid fire-ferrets to pop out of hiding and attack.

"You can't tell me what to do, Twinkletoes! " Toph used her bending to catapult a clay vase across the room and Korra barely had time to duck before it shattered inches behind her head. "You think you can live in the Spirit World for a couple of years and now _own_ people? This is blatant kidnapping! I **demand** that you bring me back now or so help me..."

"Or what? You'll _dirt_ me to death? Just deal with it, grandma."

With an exaggerated growl of frustration, Toph continued to claw at the collar of her silk robe as if it were made of burrs. In fact, she probably would have been more comfortable if her clothing were made of such vegetation, as long as it was pulled fresh from the mud.

It was the cleanliness more than anything had her writhing in agony, missing the layer of her element as if it were her very skin.

"It's only for a few more days," Korra reminded her as she reached to sort the various intravenous tubes getting tangled by the tantrum. "You just have to relax". Her aim had been to sound supportive, but it came out exasperated. Like she would rather be anywhere else in the world.

There were many reasons she had avoided humans for so long and her recent lack of sympathy was one of them. The Spirits, though followers of their own, seemingly illogical rules, were at the very least independent. But when Jinora's astral-projection had found her a few days ago with an urgent request from the Beifongs, it was a well-timed reminder that the creatures of the tangible realm also needed her help. Or at least her powers. It was her job, conscripted from birth, to help them.

No matter how much certain beings resisted.

Little did she expect the task to be comparable to wrestling an elephant-rhino into a tutu.

"I promise you'll be back in your swamp, happily rolling in filth as soon as you let this treatment run its course. Your daughters are worried."

"My _daughters_ ," Toph scoffed as she kicked at the platinum ankle bracelet that chained her to the bed, "are ungrateful jailers who don't have the stones to let me just _die_ already! You were right to never pop out any little brats. If I had known that it would come to this, I'd have left them with the bloody badger-moles!"

At another time, only a few years ago, this moment would have been the death of the secret. The legendary truth-seeker would have immediately picked up the spike in Korra's heartbeat, the barely discernable tremble in her fingers as she distracted herself by smoothing out the sheets, and all would be revealed in an instant.

This version of Toph, however, despite the loud and violent resistance that left Korra with a black eye and innumerable other bruises, was not at the top of her game. In fact, she was barely at her middle, toe-to-toe with the likes of Korra and any other, advanced earthbender.

Even this mere minute of squabbling burned through almost all her energy stores. Korra saw this in her expression as she eventually, having no other choice, calmed down and settled against the pillows, looking impossibly small and pale against the white, silk sheets.

"I just want...to be in my swamp," she whispered, closing her milky irises and taking an obviously uncomfortable breath of bleach and lavender. "Is that so much to ask?"

Korra pressed her lips together and glanced up at the steady drip of medicine flowing into Toph's veins and she felt a rare pulse of regret. She should have known, should have remembered, that it was the consequences ignored - and there were always such consequences - which became the most scarring in the end.

"You're right," Korra admitted, awkwardly patting her clammy hand. "I overstepped. Again."

Toph scoffed. "What else is new?"

"If you struggle through another two hours of this as a personal favor, _then_ I'll find your kids and negotiate a compromise."

"No need, Avatar."

Toph's eyes snapped open and she turned her head in the opposite direction of the door. "Lin? Is that you?"

The retired Chief of Police sauntered into the room with Toph's standard, dirt stained tunic draped over her forearm. Her expression automatically softened upon seeing her mother and realizing that, for the first time, the blind woman could not see her.

"Long time no see," Korra quipped, trying to lighten the mood, as she relinquished her bedside spot to Lin. A brief twitch of the lips was all she received in thanks. Korra didn't expect or desire much else. There were obviously more pressing matters vying for attention.

Believing it best to leave the family alone, Korra tiptoed backwards over the threshold and down the hall. She was practically out the door when she noticed that her strides weren't taking her as far as they should be. The steel tiles beneath her feet were being dragged backward like a conveyor belt with increasing speed and until everything, from nurses to tables to lamps, was being yanked backwards in a one-directional earthquake.

It only stopped, resulting in Korra toppling face-first onto the ground, once she was back at Toph Beifong's door.

"I was lying, you know."

In the second it took to get her bearings, she wasn't surprised to seeToph's withered hand crumpled into the room's wall as if it were made of paper, allowing her a link with all other connected metal in the institute. Lin was standing nearby with her hands on her hips; disapproving yet undeniably amused.

Korra rubbed at the large bump forming on her forehead. "Lying about what, Toph? About being old? Cause I'd believe it? Ow."

"About my daughters, nincompoop! Geez, do you hafta be such a drama queen?"

Korra met eyes with Lin, who shrugged and mouthed _she's tired._

"Do think I can't see you?" Toph shot her eldest daughter a glare, a little far to the left but still menacing. "Whatever! Before I go, I just want her to know that I don't regret them. I'd never regret them. Alright?"

"Regret what?" Asked Lin, oblivious.

"You two girls! My reasons for dragging things out as long as I have! My pain-in-the-ass, shoddy metalbending, thoughtful, stubborn, beautiful, amazing...amaze…" The passion of the speech left her winded and Lin had the help her lie back into the pillows to catch her breath.

"You should go."

Guessing it wasn't a request, Korra gave one last dutiful nod before exiting. She trusted Lin to follow her mother's wishes and return her to the swamp before the end.

* * *

Toph died less than a week later.

Korra felt her presence in the Spirit World the instant it happened while the rest of the planet was only informed after several days, once the body was discovered by some hikers. She was found in a particularly muddy part of the swamp, her feet bare, hair loose and a smile on her face.

Lin and Suyin, after much squabbling, decided to leave her there. Knowing that all she wanted in the end was to become one with the earth.

The question of _why_ Toph had pulled her back to the room that day, to make sure she heard her true feelings regarding her children, continued to irk Korra. She wondered how dampened the old woman's skills actually were when she held her hand and if she could tell, even without speaking, that Korra's heart was tangled in a lie to itself.

After dredging up and dusting off what little emotional bravery she had in stock, Korra decided to attend the funeral in Zaofu. Toph had been the last remaining member of Aang's team. This generation's Avatar was duty bound to publicly pay her respects to all they had accomplished.

That didn't mean she wasn't prepared to bend her way through the nearest wall if necessary.

Suyin's assistant had been kind enough to let her peruse the guest list prior. Or at least wasn't vigilant enough to keep her from stealing it. Knowing the formal ceremony would be brief (Toph had had very specific requests. No Spirit Hooey. Lots of hooch. Ground shaking music), Korra planned the wake circuit like a military invasion.

She started off easy; the target with the lowest defenses but highest position. First, she approached Opal.

Heavily pregnant with her and Bolin's fifth child, she still ran over to embrace Korra with an effortless grace worthy of a Master Airbender. Within the three minutes reserved for chit-chat, Korra was informed that Bolin was off at a tournament with their three eldest, Kira, Jade, and Reno, and couldn't make it back in time. Of course, Korra had already known that, but feigned disappointment anyway. She was also made aware of another, recent blow to their happy, huge family status: their only son, four-year-old Reno, had lost his sight after a bout of fever.

Before being able to express sympathies, Opal was quick to assure that he was just as able bodied and adventurous as his sisters. Inspired by his great-grandmother, Reno had befriended the local pack of badger-moles and his seismic sense was improving every day. They had no doubt that he'd quickly forge his own path.

Korra was glad to hear it. Honestly. She had a soft spot for those who grabbed the shoddy cards fate dealt and used them to build castles.

Next, after cleansing her palette with Tenzin, Jinora and the other air babies, she sucked in her stomach and approached Asami. That is, Asami and her new, gorgeous, older wife.

Her name was Shelinda Chao. She was over six feet tall, her shiny black hair fell past her waist in a braid, her eyes were a striking grey and she didn't like pickles. Korra knew more about her from the papers than she cared to know about anyone ever. A non-bender born in the city slums, she had earned a small fortune designing practical yet stylish clothing for the everyday working woman and was especially well known for romantic scandals. Before settling down, Shelinda had dated practically every young starlet in the Republic, from both the stage and big screen.

The woman had a definite type and Korra wanted to hate her for being shallow. Perhaps she been fooled, like Korra herself had been, into thinking Asami was a beautiful but prissy heiress with little else to offer. However, one look at the two of them, gazing at each other with a respect and awe rarely seen after so many years, their two adopted children running around their legs, Korra was reminded yet again that people could and often do change.

Her congratulations were genuine as she hugged each in turn and then immediately decided to take a break. She grabbed a green, gorgeously garnished cocktail from one of the many trays making the rounds and headed to the balcony.

It was there that she ran into another guest. One that had been further down her list but no less important or heart clenching.

She hadn't seen or spoken to him in years. Ever since that fateful day. She hadn't felt ready to be reminded. She still wasn't, but now was as bad a time as any.

"Hi, Dad," she muttered in greeting, eye glued to the drink as she stirred it with waterbending.

"Hi, Korra." Chief Tonraq responded somberly. "I've been looking for you."

She knew he had been. Not just tonight, but for the past thirty or forty months as a strange side hobby while on diplomatic travel. Unlike her previous tour proceeding the paralysis, she wasn't exactly hiding this time around. Ask any Spirit and they could have pinpointed her exact location. At least they'd try as well as they could in a realm where maps were as useful as chopsticks during an Agni Kai.

If anyone _really_ needed her, like the Beifongs did recently, she knew Jinora and a few others had the ability to navigate. The fact that it had taken so long was proof that she was doing her behind the scenes balancing job well enough and that whatever Tonraq had to say, he knew she didn't want to hear.

"Well, you found me. Congrats." She took a lengthy sip of her drink for liquid courage. "By now I'm sure it's sunk in that I don't want to talk about it, right?"

"Yes." He dared to take a step closer. In the light, she saw his fists clench; a familiar, tell-tale sign of nervousness. "I understand. We've all moved on."

"Good."

"I do have something to tell you though. Something I've been trying to tell you since I did it. And though this isn't the time or the place, if you are going to go back out into the world, you need to know."

She couldn't think of anything he could say that would be a surprise. She kept tabs on everyone she had ever met through their spiritual energies connected through the vines. As a backup, she also made sure to grab a newspaper now and then. No one unexpected had passed on. No governments had any indication of toppling. Even this year's sea prune crop, despite rocky weather, had managed to pull through to the disappointment of every Water Tribe child.

She thought he was going to tell a joke. Something to break the ice encasing their family tree and return it to spring.

When he finally revealed his news, news that was three years too late to do anything about, Korra could only numbly stare for long seconds.

In the end, she chose to respond with only two words.

"Thank you," she said.

The mighty Avatar then turned and promptly left the party.

Tonraq let the years of tension float away and even dared to smile. It was the best reaction he could have hoped for.

* * *

Mako had once thought living on the streets had been the most psychologically damaging thing that would ever happen to him.

He had thought training to be a pro bender would be the most exhausted he would ever feel.

Only a few short years ago, he truly believed that losing his then recent appointment as Chief would be the most he felt like a failure.

He was wrong.

It was this day, sitting in that waiting room, his nails chewed to stubs, that was worse than all those put together.

"Mako?" Finally, a healer came through the swinging doors. Mako stood up so fast that he forgot the briefcase in his lap and it clattered loudly to the floor.

He didn't care, easily abandoning the proposals he had spent the better part of a month drafting in exchange for rushing the woman in the blue coat. "What happened? Is she okay? Why didn't anyone get me soon-"

"She's fine. It's just a broken arm."

Mako's world fell out of focus and he chastised himself for forgetting his glasses on top of everything. " _Just_ a broken arm?" he repeated incredulously, not understanding how a word a innocuous as 'just' could be in front of an adjective like 'broken'. Especially when referring to a six year old.

"Considering she fell several stories off the school's roof, I'd say she got off easy."

A couple of years ago, the first time he was in this center, such a tale would have shocked him. He would have marched into her room and scolded her, banned dessert for the month and made her swear never to attempt any such reckless stunts again.

This time, however, when he opened the door and saw her sitting cross legged on the bed, tears of guilt forming in her eyes with her good hand cupping the broken one's sling, he felt only compassion.

"What happened this time?"

As she sniffed away the traces of emotion, he settled on the edge and let her shimmy closer until her head rested on his shoulder. She told him about the baby dragon-bird that had been crying outside the classroom window all morning. She told him that the teachers said there was nothing to be done and they had to let nature take its course. She explained her complex, rescue operation that involved stolen bedsheets from the infirmary tied together, a distraction in the form of a stink bomb so that she could sneak away, and then the use of her, frankly, uncontrolled airbending to jettison herself from the suspended sheets to the tree where the nest lived.

Mako blinked stupidly when she finished her tale, imagining the millions of ways it could and obviously had gone wrong.

The girl was crazy. Certifiably so.

And he loved her all the more because of it.

On their way home that evening, he picked up an extra order of dumplings from their usual restaurant, knowing she'd need some cheering up. He was sure another meeting with the headmistress was coming, another warning that he better get a handle on his daughter or she'd no longer be welcome. He knew that the client he had been prepping for tomorrow's deposition was probably a knot of nerves and already on the phone with Ba Sing Se City Hall, begging to switch representatives.

None of that mattered.

He lingered in her room for an extra hour after she had fallen asleep, continually adjusting the comforter around her small frame, stroking her dark-skinned shoulder, sweeping the tangle of brown hair from her forehead. Only after she woke up for a second and slapped his hands away with a huff of annoyance did he make his way to the small alcove off the kitchen that served as his home office.

Backup pair of glasses balanced on his nose, he tried to get to work composing key points for the deposition. As the typewriter stamped out the date and moved on to the salutation, he hesitated. His finger itched again. This happened at least once a month, primarily on days that were especially challenging to him as a person, let alone a single parent.

He glanced at the locked cabinet by his right foot, knowing that it was already packed to the brim with similar, ranting, pointless prose. Still, he couldn't stop himself anymore than he could stop the pull or the tides or the sun from setting.

He started to type.

 _Dear Korra,_

 _She broke her arm today. Again. I nearly had a heart attack..._

He typed until the first spears of dawn took aim at his retinas. After signing his name, he pulled the final page from the typewriter, meticulously folded and inserted the stack into an envelope and added it to the cabinet. There it would marinate, unaddressed, growing more bitter with every year that passed.

* * *

It was curiosity more than anything that finally broke Korra's self-censorship.

Guilt had long since been abolished. Regret had never been a factor. She stood by the decision that she had had no choice. If the current, lengthy peacetime was to serve as any evidence, she had been right.

She was sitting in the Republic Police Station archives, conscripted to assist the newly sworn-in Chief Thermin in digging up anything to link a new gang leader to past crimes, when it started. That damn curiosity. Everything she could ever want to know, she realized was at her fingertips.

She deserved a break, anyway.

It took her less than a minute to find _his_ record; the multiple drunk and disorderly convictions that had led to his termination as Chief after a mere four months. Korra could not help but grimace as she shoved the file back into its cabinet and slammed it shut.

No guilt, she promised herself. It was for the best.

As badly as this experiment was going so far, she couldn't help but move onto the next section. The birth records. This took a little more time as she could only make vague guesses for time frames and legalities. The Republic was multiplying like rabbits, it seemed, as there were over one hundred new files attributed to each week.

She had been at it for four hours that felt more like four months when she finally stumbled upon his name. Surprisingly, it wasn't as a birth record but an adoption application.

Even though the folder became especially heavy within her hands, she didn't feel anything. Not really. Just curiosity again and she sat crossed legged on the floor and flipped through it as if it were a fashion magazine.

He had done everything with the consideration and delicacy that she had come to expect. Parents were listed as unknown. The child had lived for two years in an orphanage until he had been able to officially take it home. He had had to complete therapy and counseling all while pursuing an intensive law degree to become a legal aid attorney.

This was the only part that surprised her. Mako had lived for being a cop, just like she lived for being the Avatar.

She wondered if he had changed professions because he had no choice or because he wanted to. She wondered if it was just a new, less dangerous way of pursuing the same passion of keeping the streets clean.

The last note in the file mentioned a change of address. She had known for years that he was no longer in Republic City, having felt his energy shift throughout the network of spirit vines that tethered the planet together. He currently lived in Ba Sing Se at the personal invitation of Prince Wu, now that his extended family had also resettled in the vastly improved outer ring. With an increase of immigrants to the new Earth Republic, it was the perfect place for a once famous man to blend in and start anew.

She shut the file closed then, curiosity sated. It was just enough to give support to her choices and ease whatever nagging concerns remained about this story bursting onto headlines.

She purposefully kept her thumb over the file's name label as she placed it back in the cabinet.

* * *

The first time she asked about her, Mako nearly choked on his lychee juice. Even though he had prepared for this. Even though he wondered on a daily basis why she hadn't yet brought it up in all of her twelve years.

They were going over her biology homework at the kitchen counter while picking at sesame bun dregs; a bribe to get her to study. It was a normal, blissfully lazy Sunday afternoon between bending lessons and their weekly dinners with her great-grandmother plus the extended family. Perhaps it was the confirmation that mothers were biologically necessary that spurred it. Maybe that family tree craft from history class just started to look irritatingly lopsided. Maybe she had been wanting to ask for years but was so in tune to his emotions, intrinsically knowing that the subject was a rather painful one, that she kept respectfully silent up until she just couldn't take it anymore.

Most likely, it was the latter.

When imagining this conversation, he decided early on that he wouldn't lie. He'd never lie to her. But the full truth was also impossible.

He told her that he had loved her mother. He told her that she was a powerful, determined, beautiful woman. He told her what she probably already knew just from looking in the mirror at the dark shades of her skin and wide, almond eyes; that she was from the Water Tribe and had been a bender.

He also told her that she was gone.

He said this in a tone that purposefully didn't censor the agony he felt every time he thought about Korra. It was enough that she only nodded, faking gratitude for the scraps offered, before refocusing on her textbook.

It wasn't a lie. Not really.

Korra had been long gone before she was born.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** This last part ended up being giant, so I split it. Again. I am somewhat failing at "one-shots". Oh well. Hope you enjoy. Part IV finale coming soon.


	4. Part IV

**-. Better Beginnings .-**

 **PART IV**

Ba Sing Se had a population of over two million.

The temple couldn't hold more than five-hundred, surely.

Korra weighed the odds, pros in one hand, cons in the other, and grimaced when both palms ended up hovering with equal heft. With a huff, she buried the results in the back of her mind like any other harsh review.

Only one fact stubbornly lingered; that if there was to be a new Air Temple inaugurated, with a cavalcade of born-airbender apprentices being sworn in, she _had to_ give her blessing. It was her duty to support the still fumbling Air Nation, which struggled to convince youths to adopt their traditions. Tenzin reminded her of this, in no uncertain terms, when she dared to hesitate accepting the invitation. This was her legacy after all. It was, apparently, the most important thing she had ever accidentally created.

If the fates intended her to encounter _him_ again, there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Thirteen years was already a record-breaking procrastination.

Thus, seeing little other choice, she first exited the Spirit Portal via Republic City to unearth her only formal ensemble from storage. She was relieved to discover that the moth-pedes had been intimidated enough to snack elsewhere. Having to brave shopping mall crowds would have made this already grueling mission unbearable. After requisitioning an appropriately named air bison named "Jitters", she was all too soon on her way to the Earth Republic's capital.

The event was gaudier than expected. Much like the brand new hotel suites she and the few other, more prestigious guests had been forced to occupy for the sake of publicity.

She supposed it was on purpose, convincing those few remaining, independent airbenders that the Nation had acknowledged the complaints and was trying to modernize while retaining the core values. The newly tattooed Kai was Master of this particular faction, just to get it settled, as he and Jinora took a break from nomadic life while awaiting the birth of their first child.

There were tables overflowing with layered canapes, some even containing meat for those guests allowed to indulge. Flutes of bubbling beverages made the rounds on trays carried by acolytes draped in billowing robes decorated with swirls of gold ink, every one of them graceful and sparkling like koi-swans in the lamp light.

Korra sipped at her champagne and scanned the scene from an unoccupied balcony overlooking the central courtyard. Beneath her hands on the wrought-iron railing were knots of orange and yellow streamers and strings of electric lights that formed a netted ceiling above the reverie. The band played an eclectic mix of temple instruments and modern brass, the notes familiar though sped up to meet to a new, jazzy standard expected at all city functions. She longed for the serene chimes and bells that used to fill such spaces. Too much noise made it impossible for her to fully escape the too many bodies, even on this separated level. She didn't so much want to be above it all but needed to be. If only to see the bigger picture and never focus too strongly on individuals.

She would have deemed the whole affair a gross mangling of the culture if it hadn't been so obviously successful. There was barely a cubic meter of spare space between the crowd of officials, robed apprentices, acolytes and other invited citizens, all there to welcome and stabilize the airbenders of their fair city.

It was from this perspective that she spotted him.

A dark stain of black and red among bright oranges and greens, Mako could not help but demand attention upon entry.

It had been a little over thirteen years since she last laid eyes upon him and, not surprisingly, not much had changed. Maybe a little greyer at the temples. Perhaps a little bit thicker around the shoulders, but nothing else. She swore the suit he wore was the same one Asami had bought two decades prior, and quietly chuckled that he would never stop stretching yuans as far as they could go. It was ingrained in his very blood.

Thankfully, though old fashioned, his still handsome, defined features gave the ensemble a vintage class. Like a shiny, gold collector's coin, rust-free and polished to perfection.

Draining her glass, Korra decided it was high time she show her face at the festivities. Suddenly as impatient as ever, wanting to get the inevitable over with, her feet followed a strangely clear and uninterrupted path down the stairs and across the courtyard. His silhouette like a black hole she could not help but be sucked into.

She was a mere ten steps away when she noticed that he wasn't alone.

The girl had been invisible from the balcony, just another bubbling speck in a sea of orange froth; one of the young, local airbenders celebrating their new training base. Nobody special or noteworthy. She was pulling on Mako's hand, the olive skin of her fingers contrasting with his pallor, gesturing wildly towards the table of star-shaped pastries over by the band. He laughed and rolled his eyes, pointing his index finger up as if to say "just one" before allowing her to scamper off. As he turned to watch her go, an amused smirk on his lips, only then did he notice Korra.

She had expected to feel something when their eyes met. Perhaps sadness. Definitely a twinge of awkward. But not _electricity_. Not the very same sensation she had felt the first time this had happened in Republic City's arena; two strangers with an inexplicable attraction that voided all other senses.

A sideways grin automatically broke out onto her face.

It felt good to feel again.

Mako, however, true to form, kept himself contained, protected. The amusement instantly faded from his expression, relinquishing only a tight, formal nod as acknowledgement.

"Dad!" The girl was back with not one but six of the traditional dessert precariously balanced within her palms. Her amber eyes, perfect replicas of his own shade, shone with glee as she held up her bounty. "I swear, they just gave them to me without asking! I LOVE it here! I cannot wait to start training." She already had two stuffed into her mouth before noticing that someone else, for probably the first time, won his attention over hers.

Korra could tell she was recognized by the way the girl's jaw dropped, and she immediately wanted to kick herself for not putting more deliberation into this meeting if not avoiding it completely. That is until she remembered her rather prestigious role that night. A statue of Avatar Korra was guarding the entrance to this very temple, as well as most of the city's parks. Pictures from the South Pole press conference were pasted in most, standard history texts covering Harmonic Convergence. She had even recently been asked to autograph a vintage Fire Ferrets poster which were being circulated for what she assumed were nostalgic reasons, as she hadn't posed for a photograph in years.

Of course this girl recognized her. Anyone and everyone at this party would. The dress she wore alone, admittedly a rustic antique nowadays, had at one point even been a popular party costume.

"Yourph-youph Afatar Kwohra!" the youth proclaimed, barely audible thanks to a mouth stuffed with pastry. She glanced over her shoulder for her father's confirmation, too briefly to notice his stoicism, before her attention was yanked back. Swallowing as quickly as possible without choking, she then transferred the rest of the pastries into the crook of her elbow. "Wow! It-it's a pleasure to meet you!" Her hand shot out, realized it was covered in syrup, and was quickly wiped on her robes. "Oh. Darn. So sorry. They only make the star pies twice a year and they-they're kinda my favorite. Again, sorry."

Korra smiled like she smiled with every other, nervous fan. In a way that didn't quite reach her cheeks. "They're my favorite too. I get it."

"Really? Cool!" Her eyes practically glowed with excitement. Only then, at this close distance, could Korra note that though they had his coloring, the shape was much wider than the typical firebender's. She also had thicker, longer lashes, evolved more for catching snowflakes rather than ashes. Her hair was a familiar shade of black-brown with thick waves which begged to be pulled into wolf-tails, but instead was cut into a shoulder-length bob, half swept aside with a beaded comb in honor of the occasion. Orange robes marked her as one of the new airbender apprentices and Korra almost laughed at the irony. Poor Jinora, having to yet again teach meditation to someone who had obvious difficulties standing still.

She was about to ask more, curious as to which level the young teen had achieved, when Mako blatantly stepped between them. "Rei, can you get me some water please?"

"But _dad-_ "

" **Now** , Rei."

The girl jumped, proving it was both rare and indisputable when he raised his voice, and quickly scurried off.

All of sudden, within the crowd of hundreds, they were alone.

"Rei," Korra repeated, rolling the name over her tongue and figuring out its taste. After a beat, she began to nod. "It's nice. Simple. I like it."

"You don't get to have an opinion, Korra."

His harshness may have once thrown her on the defensive, but she had long since risen above such petty emotions. Especially when she deserved it.

"Okay. Understood." That same, empty smile pasted itself to her mouth with renewed purpose. "Come on, Mako." A fist reached out to give him a friendly cuff on the shoulder, much like she would have done back when they were teammates, but seeing his eyes flash in warning prompted her to redirect and instead push her hair behind her ear. "Are you really so surprised I'm here? You must have known I'd be invited."

"You've been invited to a lot of things over the years. You've never shown up before. Why today? This is supposed to be _her_ day."

"Well, isn't it obvious?" She gestured to the surrounding river of orange-robed revelers in which they stood out like two, dark rocks stubborning resisting the current. "Am I not allowed to celebrate what I originated, even if I wasn't part of the expansion?"

Mako breathed deeply through his nose. Of the hundreds of times he had imagined this scenario, knowing that she couldn't - wouldn't - hide forever, the tattooed lecture of pain and fury had faded from his brain with time. After finding peace, after settling so deeply and comfortably into life, it was hard to offer the trigger to it all anything other than thanks.

But he wouldn't say it. Not out loud and especially not now.

A deserter didn't get to join the victory parade.

"What do you want?" he asked cautiously.

Korra could only shrug. She hadn't wanted anything for so long except to be left alone to do her job and still hadn't decided if that had changed. Seeing him again was stirring though. Sensitivities long tranquilized were starting to claw at their shackles for the first time in over a decade when she noticed that, despite the desk job, he was still trim beneath his fitted suit. As lean and healthy and _beautiful_ as ever.

Considering again, there was something she wanted. Something she hadn't dared to want in a very long time.

She decided to take a shot in the dark. One of the few good consequences of being a recluse was that you didn't really feel shame anymore.

"I'm staying at the Four Elements in the Upper Ring. Suite 6," she stated with attempted nonchalance and yet, despite hovering around forty, she still felt like a grade-schooler asking their crush to dance. "I'll be there for a week or two at least. You should stop by sometime. We can...talk."

With that, she decided the evening had met its natural end, leaving him dazed and confused in the middle of the courtyard. Before exiting, she chanced one last glance at Rei over by the treats table. The preteen had just claimed victory over a how-many-star-pies-can-we-fit-into-our-mouths contest with a fellow apprentice, fist pumping in the air triumphantly. Korra's impervious smile-mask faltered for the first time that she could remember as she faded into the shadows, alone.

* * *

Later that night, at some ungodly hour, there was a knock at her hotel room door. Korra's heart leapt into her throat at the sound and, though nerve wracking, she basked in the glory of her nerves being alight with anything anymore.

She almost ripped the door from its hinges in her eagerness, as if it were her only escape from a boxed-life gradually filling with smoke. However, it wasn't the best-case-scenario, reanimated lover wanting to ravishing her for old times sake. It wasn't even a spurred ex-boyfriend glaring with murderous intent.

It was a plain, shallow cardboard box.

On the lid was a hastily scrawled salutation that seemed faded, as if it had been written decades prior.

" _For Korra."_

With equal parts trepidation and eagerness, she kneeled down and removed the lid.

Inside were envelopes. Hundreds if not one thousand of them.

Packed so tightly that there was hardly the space for her nail tips to wriggle out the first along the line. The yellowed paper showed her name, no address - fitting, as if she never had a permanent home - and was dated from an especially cold winter, twelve years prior.

She was tempted to summon a flame and burn it all then and there; erasing the evidence that she had had any effect on their lives.

Then she remembered him asking what she wanted just a few hours earlier.

It was a delicate, confusing question. Even though it shouldn't be. Even though the majority of humans could spout an instant, point-form list. So she dragged the box into her room, determined to try to feel something - _anything_ \- as intended when she had let him know how to find her.

The sun was peaking over the horizon when she arrived at the last letter, dated just two days prior and referring to the very event she had come to this city for.

" _It should have been you doing all this,"_ it stated with obvious bitterness. " _You should be teaching her how the robes tie. You should be shopping for the perfect hair accessory. But you're not. You never will be. And I see her heart breaking that it has to be me, no matter how hard I try. And I will never forgive you for that."_

That one, she did burn. For it dared to link these phantom tales to a reality she had only recently confirmed existed.

Even in ash form, it was no less sharp.

* * *

"Not that I'm complaining, but you do know that I'm perfectly capable of doing this myself, right?" Jinora couldn't help but tease as she accepted another stack of newly stapled text. She and Korra were sitting on the floor of the Air Temple's main office preparing hymn booklets for the upcoming evening's Festival of Guru Matashiru. The sky was holding back rain like a sneeze, the humidity staking claim between skin and fabric, throats dry and fingers sticky from melting ink, and yet they persisted.

Korra wiped the sweat off her forehead with her bicep before crawling to collect a new round of topsheets from the many piles carpeting the floor. "Of course I know. You're pregnant, not an invalid. But I promised your dad that I'd help you and Kai get this place settled, so I'm..." she scanned the mess with equal parts misery and exasperation. "I'm helping. Sort of. Just deal with it, okay?"

The Air Temple Mistress held her hands up in surrender and continued to supervise silently. Of course there were one thousand other, more complex tasks vying for attention that could benefit from the Avatar's skills. Yet all of those would have broken the agreement; the unspoken guarantee Jinora had made when Korra approached the Temple those two weeks ago, the day after the inauguration ceremony, and offered her services.

Whatever task Korra was assigned - and any task would do - it had to have little to no interaction with other people. Especially the apprentices. Over the last decade, the Avatar had purposefully demoted herself to more of a world caretaker than leader and it wasn't a position she was willing to relinquish. Not yet.

Kai didn't understand. At least he pretended not to. Every morning he pressed Korra to join a lesson or a meditation or even just to pop up on the office's balcony and give a little wave of encouragement to the class. It was asking so little and would help so much. Every being who set foot in the Ba Sing Se Temple was welcomed by with her carved, stone likeness and the concept of the _real_ , flesh & blood Avatar lingering nearby inspired a lot of people to keep coming back. It reaffirmed the belief that to become an Air Nomad was to become part of something grand, something worthy.

Still, every morning, without hesitation, Jinora would silence his pleas with a scathing glare that only a wife and soon-to-be-mother could deliver.

Korra didn't let it bother her. Despite the mundanity of the work, for the first time in a long while, she felt useful.

"Almost done!" she announced happily after the piles had thinned almost level with the planks.

As if protesting this small victory, a swarm of sheer, butter-moth spirits then blew in through the balcony doors, bringing along a stiff breeze that threatened to defile it all. Korra groaned and swatted them away like she would any other insect, which made Jinora to instinctively scoop a few of them within her palm.

"They must miss you," she excused while scratching one soft, fuzzy head, inspiring the rest to redirect and seek her less abrasive attentions. "I must say there are far more spirits here now than before the inauguration. I'm guessing you haven't been away from the Spirit World for this long since…" the sentence trailed off as she had no idea how to end it.

The next package of text was stapled with much more vehemence than before. "Yes, well, they'll just have to get used to it."

"Are you thinking of staying here? In the physical realm?" _In Ba Sing Se_ was an unspoken addendum.

Everyone knew that Korra had promised Tenzin no more than two weeks of her time. Two weeks that were pretty much over as of the next day.

"Maybe. Probably not. I don't know." The spirits resting on her thighs bristled, their fluffy bodies suddenly glinting with sharp spikes, mirroring her frustration. "I just don't want people to completely forget I exist. That I'm still helping behind the scenes. Trying to, at least."

"No one _could_ forget you, Korra," Jinora assured with passionate sincerity. "How could you even think that? You changed the world! For the better. All of this..." In a series of awkward movements, she brought herself to her feet and began gesturing wildly around the very room. Every inch of wall space was filled with texts, idols, paintings and framed photographs of smiling airbender factions from all across the planet. Beyond the open balcony doors they could hear the young class of apprentices rabble-rousing in the courtyard, taking advantage of these last few, warm hours before the sun set and the gong would trigger the Festival's beginning; a full night of meditation, chanting and first attempts to communicate with the Spirits.

The idea that anyone could imply that Korra hadn't done enough...it made Jinora's blood boil. Though admittedly, at eight months pregnant, her blood tended to boil rather easily.

"You know none of this would exist without you? I wouldn't have met Kai. This city would be in shambles. I mean- how could you even...My family and I will _always_ be so very gratef-" She was interrupted by a loud retch and a hand flew to clap over her mouth, scattering the resting spirits. Korra, very much accustomed to such episodes by now, rushed to help guide her back to floor, bending the nearby metal wastebin towards them with one hand while digging into her rucksack with the other. She had forgotten she had prepared something for this very inevitability.

"Here. Drink this if you can." Jinora blindly accepted the canteen hovering in front of her face and drank deeply, desperate as she was for any semblance of relief. It tasted just like she imagined spirit water would taste. Tingling, tart and deliciously frosty.

"What-what is-"

"It's mainly coconut water, ginger, lemon, salt and honey and some other stuff. Don't worry about. Drink." Korra began to stroke her hair in what she hoped was a soothing manner, succeeding in distracting her. There was no need to mention the secret ingredient of boiled, beetle-snake skin sheddings. "Katara concocted it. Called it labor-aid. You know, instead of lemon-ade? Your grandmother wasn't exactly known for her wit."

Jinora tried to chuckle but found it impossible with canteen glued to her mouth. Only the constant flow down her throat seemed to be keeping the bile at bay.

"Anyway, it helped. Helps. I think. I guess." Korra's eyes trailed to the left and fixed themselves there, unwilling to meet her friend's pained stare.

Not a day went by that they didn't feel the Master waterbender's loss. As if a whole constellation were ripped from the heavens.

After a few minutes and several deep breaths, the nausea relented enough that Jinora felt confident replacing the waste bin in its designated spot. It was the first time in over three months she hadn't completely lost her lunch, which was a testament to the brew's power. "Thank you, Korra. You-you really are my hero."

At this, she couldn't help but chuckle. "No problem. I'll give the kitchen the recipe. And for Spirit's sake woman, didn't the midwives tell you to stay off your feet?"

"Yes. I know. I'm trying. It's just such a hectic time with the Temple opening and I'm always so restless since I'm not allowed to practice anymore and-"

" _And_ it's about to get a lot more hectic." Korra tapped lightly on her extended stomach. "All the more reason to concentrate on yourself and take a break once in awhile. There's no shame in it."

"Ha! Look who's talking!" Jinora scoffed lightheartedly as she shimmied herself into sitting up straighter. "You know, thanks to you, we're more than all set for the Festival and, I'm guessing, you don't want to stay."

Korra grimaced and shook her head. She already had a full year of airbending training under her belt. That had been eleven months and three weeks too much for her tastes.

"Okay, then why don't you go explore the city tonight? Huh? Paint the town red, or whatever the kids are saying nowadays."

It was Korra's turn to scoff. "Right. I think I'm a little too old to be painting anything any color, but thanks for the suggestion."

"Well, I insist you do something. You're leaving tomorrow, right? You can't spend your last hours in Ba Sing Se just sitting in that empty hotel suite yet again."

"I don't need to be entertained, Jinora. I'm a big girl."

"Wait. I have the perfect idea! Help me up."

"Jinora…"

"Just do it! Or I'm telling Kai you volunteered to run midnight mass."

"Okay! Geez. You're grumpy when incubating."

After being pulled to her feet, Jinora waddled around the desk and yanked open the bottom drawer, revealing one of the last items Korra would expect to find in the office of a Master airbender.

It was a bottle of sake.

Automatically, she burst out laughing. "Wow. This city really has corrupted you."

"Oh please. Kai corrupted me long before Ba Sing Se. I have the swollen ankles to prove it. Here." She held the bottle out. "Take it."

"Wouldn't this make my situation even more pathetic?"

"I'm not suggesting you drink it alone. It's the Festival of Guru Matashiru! Every apprentice will be stationed here overnight. _All_ night." She said this pointedly, glancing towards the courtyard where the sun was already starting to dip below the temple spires. "It's the summer solstice. As good as reason as any to toast a new beginning. Don't you think?"

She re-offered the bottle, a barely contained, salacious glint in her eyes.

No doubt about it, Tenzin's daughter really was corrupted.

Korra couldn't have been prouder.

Without daring to think too much, she grabbed the sake if only to avoid the pregnant woman's wrath. The brand was one of the few she recognized. One sold only in Republic City. Kai must have brought it with him, which explained the need to store it somewhere special. The remnants of her rebel self knew she'd find it that much more delicious if only because it was technically contraband.

"This doesn't mean anything," she warned after burying the bottle in her rucksack.

"Of course not." Master Jinora, once again the wise, serene Temple Mistress, bowed as deeply as her belly allowed. "Now please shoo. I'm awfully busy, you know?"

Korra had just stepped through the temple's gates when the gong reverberated down the halls, vibrating everything within a two block radius and signaling the Festival's start. It had also, apparently, queued the clouds to release the moisture they'd been collecting all day. With little to no warning, she found herself struggling to see her own boots through a thick wall of pouring rain. Though most city dwellers either ran or sought shelter within the various cafes and stores lining the streets, Korra happily allowed the water to rush down her face and arms, washing away both the sweat and the doubts that clung to her chi like stubborn burrs.

She knew exactly where one would find _red_ with which to paint the town at this time of night.

* * *

Mako was the last one left in his City Hall department, hunched over his desk, well into the storm's climax and with no intention of leaving any time soon. This was the first of many future nights he knew he'd be returning to empty apartment as Rei began her airbending training in earnest. Tonight, for whatever reason, he couldn't handle it. Not yet. Not while his entire skin itched and his fingers couldn't stop tapping ink dots onto the bill proposal he was supposed to be editing.

This city had been his home for several years now and never had it made him feel so agitated, so foreign. Like every laugh heard floating up from the street was aimed in his direction and every stair and tile was constantly shifting to try and trip him up, proving him to be the baffoon he felt he was for stubbornly avoiding the Four Elements.

With a groan of frustration, he rubbed at the skin under his glasses and readjusted the seat, pouring renewed effort into the task at hand.

The feelings would go away eventually. They always did. He simply had to wait it out.

He had just finished reading the same sentence for the eighth time when _it_ started. A strange, consistent tapping on his window, inescapably loud even over the pouring rain. He was about to investigate when the source revealed itself in a most dramatic fashion; with a crash that rattled the whole wall as a stone shot through the glass and embedded itself half an inch deep into the wood of his desk.

" _Sorry_!" A voice yelled from beyond what remained of the window. " _That was an accident! Obviously!"_

It never occurred to him not to rush to the frame and yank it open, brows pulled together in fury as he searched for the perpetrator.

He should have known. _This_ was what had been keeping him on edge every waking moment for the past two weeks, worsening each passing day - the inevitably of her doing something absolutely insane.

That or worse; nothing at all.

"This is a government complex, Korra! What the- are you _trying_ to cause a political scandal?"

The drenched, muddy Avatar, revealed to be standing ankle deep in a flower bed on the roof of the opposite building, threw her hands in the air with obvious exasperation. "I said it was an accident! Relax, will you? This is supposed to be, I dunno... _charming_ or something!"

Mako purposefully thumped his forehead against the frame. The breadth of her impropriety officially knew no bounds. Worst of all, he still felt the need to pull her out of harm's way. Even if it meant putting himself in the line of fire.

"Can you even get down from there?"

"Of course I can get down from here! Who do you think I am, Master of all four eggplants?"

"I mean can you get down from there without causing a scene?"

"Oh. Wait a sec." She backed up to glance over the opposite ledge, towards where he knew a contingent of guards were convening for the overnight shift. After a second's deliberation, she sludged back through the mud to his side. "Depends. Does everyone working here actually _need_ spectacles or is it only the old people?"

Mako immediately ripped the thin, gold frames from his face, a blush spilling across his cheekbones to his dismay. "They're only for reading, I'm not- never mind!" He knew she was only teasing. Still, the fact that she was being so casual, as if they were still relatively carefree teenagers, was disconcerting. He had figured that his complete and utter ignorance of her invitation had been as clear a message as it could get.

Supposedly, he had figured wrong.

While brushing away the remnant glass from the sill, he struggled to arrange his chaotic thoughts into some semblance of a plan. "Just-just don't move! I'm coming to get you."

"What? Why?" She gestured to the relatively short airspace that divided them. "You know I can just-"

"I said don't move!"

"Pft. FINE!"

As she settled in to wait, Mako convinced himself that he had no choice when he grabbed his jacket and fedora off their designated hooks. He told himself that he couldn't very well let the Avatar, an undeniably important figurehead, get caught breaking into and vandalizing City Hall; a collection of buildings whose construction she had loudly contested in the past and was still a hot button topic amidst the liberal parties. It would redirect too much press away from much more important legislation currently in process. Not to mention, he'd have to spend at least two hours talking the still sensitive Prince Wu off a ledge.

He told himself it was his duty to see her back to her hotel safely if not quietly.

As he sped down the stairs, he refused to read too much into how fast his heart was beating.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Writer's fail again. This final section ended up being twenty pages, so I split it. Oh well. This one-shot has since become a chaptered drama and I can't complain cause I'm having fun writing it. Hope you are somewhat entertained. Please feel free to review/question. Perhaps karma will bless you with a legendary pokemon ;).


	5. Part V

**-. Better Beginnings .-**

 **PART V**

A bottle of sake. A storm. A hotel elevator.

The very ingredients that had led to this mess of a situation, now all crammed together for a most miserable reunion. Except this time the drink was, wisely, still corked and Mako and Korra were careful to remain on complete opposite sides of the cage as it ascended.

Korra hated how awkward this was. How awkward she had made it. Once best friends now couldn't even look each other in the eye, all thanks to a mere ten minutes of foolishness more than a decade prior.

After escorting her from the rooftop, they had marched the twenty-three blocks between City Hall and the Four Elements in tense silence. Six feet of impenetrable space stretched between them and neither made any attempt to shelter from the downpour, lest it hint at fallibility. Mako had had every intention of abandoning her at the nearest corner, mission as complete as possible, when she stopped him with a shout.

" _I just want to talk,"_ she had said after ensuring they were out of the doormen's earshot. The statement wasn't entirely honest, but true enough.

" _Now?_ Now _you want to talk?"_ Mako had chuckled humorlessly, as if the very concept were clearly insane. The sound summoned vexation beneath the entire surface of her skin, causing veins to throb and digits to twitch.

" _Yes._ Now _I'm ready to talk. To explain."_

" _I don't need your excuses, Korra. We never needed that. So goodnight."_

He had been about to walk away again. Perhaps out of her life forever. For whatever reason, that wasn't an option she could allow tonight.

" _I read your letters!"_

It was the only thing she could think to say.

It was enough.

He froze mid-step, reconsidering. _"What letters?"_

" _You know. The box? 'Dear Korra'?"_ He blinked but otherwise didn't react. With her heart lodged in her throat, she dared to continue. _"I read every single one of them. All three hundred and nineteen. Twice. So I can't just let you walk away now. Okay? Please,_ _ **please**_ _don't walk away."_

Neither breathed for long seconds.

Eventually, he seemed to have come to a decision, taking a moment to turn his collar up and pull the brim of his fedora low over his brow for some semblance of anonymity. _"Fine,"_ he had said, brusquely stepping past her on the way to the lobby doors. _"Let's talk."_

The chime of the elevator arriving may as well have been a gunshot.

Both knew that neither would be leaving this place in the same state that they enterred.

She welcomed him into her suite like one would a diplomat, stiffly suggesting that he make himself comfortable as she fetched some towels and put on a pot of tea. First he scanned the room, as if expecting to encounter booby-traps, before hanging his dripping hat and coat onto the nearby rack. His gaze was then drawn to the dining table. It was a rather strange sight, she supposed, in this elegantly decorated space. The entirety of its surface was covered with carefully arranged piles of paper - his letters - blanketing the wood as completely as a thick layer of snow.

He reached out to touch one, brushing away the remnants of ash, brows furrowed. Alone in the kitchenette, Korra was trying and failing not to stare. The kettle was blindly pushed onto the burner but then, thinking better of it, she instead reached into her rucksack for Jinora's offering.

"I don't know about you," she muttered before uncorking the bottle with her teeth and spitting it onto the counter. "But I could use a drink."

With shaking hands, she filled two small, porcelain cups and Mako felt his own nervousness ease upon seeing the evidence that she was still human. The emotionless, beautiful-like-frost-was-beautiful, Avatar mannequin from the party was gone. This was warm blooded Korra is all her tangled, dirt-covered, no-holds-barred glory. It was the Korra he had fallen in love with and continued to love in the form of Rei.

There was no need to remind her of how similar they were. He must have listed hundreds of examples in the letters. From the gusto with which she slurped her noodles to the crooked grin to the obsession with all things in competitive bending.

Over the last two weeks, Korra had memorized it all. A little lifetime's worth of scraped knees and tiny failures and loneliness but also air scooter victories, first crushes and smiles. He wondered if she had felt her first surge of maternal pride when reading about the new pro bending rule book that Rei and her friends were trying to get published, as it included a fourth airbending teammate into the fray.

They didn't talk about any of that though. Not yet. He silently decided that they had had enough of the past.

What mattered now was the future.

"She's going to figure it out soon enough," Mako felt need to warn before accepting the offered cup. "She's smart. And you hanging around the temple is only making it more obvious. She already knows that we were teammates and that our relationship was...complicated."

Korra nodded as she took a hearty sip, more as a delay tactic than anything, completely disregarding Jinora's suggested excuse to toast the solstice.

After the scene she had pulled to get him here, she maddeningly found herself without any idea of what to say. Alternatively, Mako, who had originally planned on staying silent, found he could not shut himself up.

"She asked about you only once. Again, she's smart. She knows me better than anyone. She knows that it hurts to talk about. So she doesn't. She's kind."

Korra nodded again, swigging until her cup was drained.

"It's been hard. She was far from a patient kid. That's changing. Slowly. She's growing up. It's quite amazing to watch, actually." With a staggered breath, Mako stared into the abyss of his drink as Korra began to refill hers.

He hadn't consumed a drop of alcohol since he lost his Chief title back in the Republic. Not because he thought he still couldn't show restraint, that especially dark period had been eternally brightened by Rei's arrival, but because he simply hadn't felt the need to indulge since. Being a parent, a role model, had been his sole and unencumbered focus for so long now, he had forgotten how to be anything else.

Tonight, he managed to carve a loophole out of the carefully constructed, intangible contract that dictated his every decision. The serving was knocked back so that she could refill his cup immediately after hers. They then took seats at opposite ends of the table, the letters resting between them, radiating years of pain and hate and anger but above all love.

Another few sips and finally, as the effects spread through her system, Korra could feel her tongue begin to loosen; straining to match a smidgen of the heart-wrenching facts that he had drowned her in with ink. "I suppose I should tell you...tell you how this all happened."

"I know _how_ it happened, Korra," he said through a scoff. "I was there. And I have the scars to prove it."

It took all of Korra's willpower to remain in her seat, fists clenching into paper until a grating crunch bounced off the damasked walls. "Look, I know I'm not perfect. I know I've made mistakes but - newsflash - so have you. So...so for just a few, damn, minutes, will you _please_ just shut up and listen? Please?"

In response, Mako leaned back into his chair, sweeping his hand across the table as if summoning a jester for entertainment.

Korra swallowed the rage spurred by his nonchalance, letting it boil and reduce low in her belly. She supposed he was allowed a few minutes of being a jerk. It was a small price to pay for his undivided attention, made obvious by his practically unblinking eyes.

He was listening. So Korra spoke.

Firstly, she told him about how she had been in denial for weeks after their encounter. As construction began on the new South Pole Healing Center, she ignored the changes to her body like most would a pimple or an insect bite. That is until the frequent and intense bouts of nausea forced her to seek Katara's advice. Of course, the waterbending Master was able to diagnose her "ailment" in less than a minute.

Back then, instinctively, Korra had burst out laughing. It was still a well publicized fact that she had last been romantically involved with a woman. One of the many pros to the relationship was the impossibility of such consequences. The idea was simply preposterous. Literally, inconceivable.

It took a full hour and another mortifying loss of her stomach contents in the middle of the Center's freshly tiled lobby before she allowed herself to remember. And when reality finally dawned, instead of crying or cursing or any other sort of humane reaction, she instead punched a hole straight through the nearest wall of solid ice.

In the present, dim light of the Ba Sing Se hotel suite, Korra paused her tale to crack the still sensitive knuckles of her right hand. Another drink was necessary to dull the pangs.

After a deep gulp, she continued.

She told him that as Katara set and healed the broken bones, she had tried so very hard to dredge up some wisps of enthusiasm. A baby, no matter its origins, was a blessing. When that failed, after nearly a week of soul-crushing depression, unwilling and unable to eat or sleep or even leave her room, only then did the waterbending master offer her an escape while it was still early enough. If she really couldn't go through with it, then the women of their tribe had their secret ways. Only in the most dire circumstances, it was believed better to end the life than have it fester in such a poisonous environment.

It was that offer, the horrifying idea of purposefully killing a piece of his spirit, that forced her to pull it together long enough to survive the incubation period.

Hapless accident or not, the being deserved a chance.

"I was going to tell you. Katara really wanted me to. I wrote at least twenty versions of the same letter but...well, last we spoke, your life seemed so damn close to _perfect_." With a sigh, she filled their cups yet again. "I knew this would change everything. Ruin all that you had worked so hard for. I knew Lin was about to make you Chief and you were gonna marry that pretty, reporter girl. I couldn't take that away. And even if I could, what would it have served? We didn't and would never work."

Though Korra's eyes remained fixed downward, she heard him shift a little in his seat. Still, he said nothing.

She moved on.

She told him about how sick and weak she had continued to become, despite genuine efforts. How near the end she barely had enough energy to light a match with her bending and thus had had no choice but to move back in with her parents, shutting herself inside the palace when her situation became too obvious the ignore. It was like being paralyzed all over again and she could feel herself growing more bitter, more resentful with every passing day.

Finally, Korra told him about the night Rei came into the world. Which was much _much_ earlier than she should have. She told him that the pain had been worse than the Red Lotus' poison. How the blood was _everywhere_. How her mother had sobbed while mopping up the red pools with one hand and desperately gripping her fingers with the other, begging her to hold on just a little longer. How Tonraq had broken his arm in a snowmobile crash while travelling at ludicrous speeds to fetch Katara and yet that still hadn't slowed him down.

Korra told Mako how she had died that night.

All she could remember was pain and blood and screaming and, throughout it all, the glow of her waterbending Master's gentle hands working furiously.

When she woke up, days later, she remembered discovering the jagged stitches across her abdomen, being informed that key parts of her anatomy had been damaged beyond repair - there would be no other children in her future - and then, to add devastation to injury, her mother lastly broke the news that in the midst of it all - by pure, coincidental bad timing - Katara had been welcomed by the spirits.

Neither Tonraq nor Senna ever explicitly said it, still, Korra knew that the Master had spent more energy than she had in stock to save them both. Thus, even without the multitude of other, practical reasons for not wanting to take on such a responsibility, her relationship with the tiny being was doomed from the start.

She couldn't love the child. She simply couldn't.

"Too much had already been sacrificed," Korra stated this as an unarguable fact. As though it were a simple, algebraic equation with only one possible outcome. Two plus two equals hate.

Thus, the adoption had been set up swiftly and quietly. That horrific chapter was intended to fade in time and she could continue her Avatar duties with newfound dedication. Everyone, the whole world and Mako especially, were supposed to be happier as a result.

That had been the plan. Until Tonraq took matters into his own giant, clumsy hands...

When she finished, Mako could only nod. Not because he agreed but because the only other possible reaction was to shake her for being so ridiculously shortsighted. After downing the bottle's dregs, he stood and strode briskly towards the door without so much as a goodbye.

He couldn't deal with this pity party. His life hadn't been all smiles and sunshine either, but he still would never - _could_ never - abandon family. No matter how crazy things got. Such selfishness, though human, was unforgivable. You didn't excuse the person dropping shards of themselves onto the track just because stragglers managed to limp across the finish line with minimal blood loss.

He had just started to turn the knob when the metal suddenly turned to putty within his palm, melting around the lock and barring the exit.

"Are you going to tell her?" Korra asked, sounding uncharacteristically meek. "About me? About what I did?"

Mako released a deep, furious exhale. "No. But if she asks, I won't deny. I won't lie to her."

Korra nodded. "Okay. That's fair I guess."

"The door, Korra," he growled. He needed to get out of there. Though not entirely drunk, years of abstinence led to him getting more muddled than expected. And simmering below the surface of his anger was something else. Something that he hadn't felt stir in ages.

It terrified him.

"Right. I'll-I'll get it." Instead of bending the mechanism back into shape from the table, she instead walked over to join him at the entrance. With a delicacy reserved for only the most sensitive of tasks, she braced a hand on his lower back as she leaned around to grasp the knob. She reformed its elaborate shape in inestimably small increments, stretching the moment - the contact - like a rubber band begging to snap.

They both knew what she was hinting at. What she was silently asking. It was so stupid, so ludicrously inappropriate post-confessional, that Mako considered blasting the door off its hinges just to get away.

Because worse than her asking, was his wanting her to ask.

It was almost like that fateful night all over again. They were drawn to each other. Like magnets. The insistent pressure of her fingers burned like a hot iron even though the layers of his clothing, reminding him that, apparently, there was to be no middle ground here. They either had to live dimensions apart or clash completely, as close as two beings could get.

When she kissed him - and they both knew she would eventually kiss him, so there was no point in stalling - he threw a decade's worth of frustration into his reciprocation - as they both knew he would indeed reciprocate. His lips pressed against hers so forcefully that the back of her head hit the wall with bruising force and he pinned her wrists up in similar fashion.

She let him. Of course both were aware that he could be sent sprawling with a flick of her fingers if she really wanted to, but the roughness was encouraged, understanding that he needed to feel like he had some - _any -_ influence on her actions or inactions.

All of a sudden, it was _exactly_ like that fateful night.

It started fast and desperate; two people still trying to find their place in the world and temporarily seeing it in one another's skin. He wanted to reenact a shadow of the passion they used to share; to be reminded that such raw, senseless feeling could and did still exist in him. She, alternatively, wanted to forget; to fold time to the seam where they were teenagers giddily in love and eagerly exploring newfound sensation.

Most of all, both simply wanted to get lost alongside one another; to enter a state where nothing they did or would ever do to each other mattered. They could just be Mako and Korra with a virgin clean slate; two strangers will little else to care about except impending release.

Maybe that was how it started. After a few minutes of groping and pulling and _please_ , just as her breathing started to rise in pitch, Mako lost the fire. The fevered anger was receding and he was starting to remember how this used to happen. Back at the start. Before the primal overwhelmed the sentiment and they began doing this sort of stuff more to shut each other up and vent fury rather than to actually be together.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

He pulled away from her lips - it was like ripping off a limb - and instead buried his face into the crook of her neck, both breathing deeply in a desperate effort to cool down.

"You should have told me," he muttered into her shoulder.

Damn it. His voice; it was so obviously broken.

He felt Korra nod against his cheek and she trembled all over, fingers clenched into his hair for a tether. All of it was a silent plea for him not to let go, no matter what came out her mouth next.

"Yes. In retrospect, I should have told you. But even if I had, if we're being ourselves and honest tonight…" She pulled his head away until their eyes met. Gleaming amber and frost-bitten blue, both burning. "I still would have left. You wouldn't be any less angry, less hurt today."

"You don't know that." The completed family image he had always conjured in dark times began flickering behind his eyes like a dying lightbulb. "We could have been happy. I could have made you happy."

"I'm the Avatar. I'm not meant to be happy. You of all people should know that by now."

"Then what's the point of this?" He gestured at what little space remained between them. "Of us?"

"The point, Mako, for me at least, is to forge a connection. To touch upon that which I am built to protect so that I actually want to protect it and can convince the spirits to also. I'm still alive, still fighting, all because of _you._ " She kissed him again, gently this time, tears gathering under her lashes at the crude _intensity_ of it all. "So please...please remind me of what I've given my life up for? Remind me why humanity is worth preserving?"

Without really knowing why or how, he felt himself nod. Calmly. A man with a purpose detached from any affiliation with logic.

In a couple of fumbling, graceless steps, they made their way to the suite bedroom, knocking the table covered with the letters and sending most of them cascading to the floor. He took his time to strip her bare, piece by piece, purposefully slow and delicate even though she was trying to rush. Eventually, she succumbed to the change in pace and her hands took a less frantic path, moving like waves through his hair, down his back, around his biceps and on repeat, discovering and memorizing the slight changes to his body.

When the thick scars on her lower abdomen were revealed, she couldn't help but immediately try to cover the mess with her hands, but he kissed around them until the nervous tension eased and was replaced with a whole other type as his lips traveller lower, stoking the flames higher with every brush of his tongue and fingers.

He hadn't performed this specific act in an especially long time, not even during the last few weeks of their relationship. There had never been the time or space as trysts were usually on the clock in semi public places. But he still remembered, he could never forget, the first time he got it _right_. She had continued trembling for minutes afterward, thighs clenching around his ears, breathing erratic, unable to form coherent sentences. It was a memory he used to summon while alone after working the beat in Republic City. When they were still friends and the guilt and anger had just started to take root but had yet to blossom. He summoned those skills and pressed into her with purpose, determined to coax a much delayed encore.

As her sighs turned to staggered gasps, so did the whine of the electric lamps, buzzing with incremental energy. He felt a breeze flutter through his hair even though he knew all the windows were closed. And when she finally hit her peak, the earth shook in time with her spasms.

It was all a jarring reminder of how unrealistic his family fantasy had been. She would never belong to him. They would never have had the quiet, lazy kind of love he had at one point expected and always wanted. Not permanently at least. She belonged to the planet, to the Spirits, to serve every human that lived.

Later, after she took charge and brought him home inside of her, he felt the years of anger and hurt flow from his veins as if she were bending poison out.

It wasn't fast. It wasn't frenzied. They had done that often enough and the satisfaction was shockingly temporary. This was a new beginning and an end. A welcoming embrace of a new friend in addition to a tearful goodbye to a past lover.

He finally understood. He accepted her choices. And he now knew, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that she had kept the promise they had made to one another the day they decided to end their relationship.

She still and would _always_ love him.

"I can't stay," she told him in the afterglow, as they both watched the barely discernable glow of spirits dancing across the ceiling, having been attracted by the power surge from their Avatar.

Mako nodded. "I know. I get it. This was a one time thing."

Korra's brows scrunched together as she considered. "We keep saying that, but it never is, is it?"

He laughed. He couldn't help it. It was undeniably ridiculous how many times they ended up entwined despite all efforts to the contrary. "You're right."

"So. How about this time, we don't say it? How about this time," her fingers threaded with his and he swore he could see a glimpse of glowing threads tying them together "how about we say _until we meet again?_ Huh? Personally, I think it has a much better ring to it."

" _Until we meet again_. Hmm." He let the words marinate for a while. His past self would have insisted on all or nothing. She either committed to him fully and wholeheartedly or they'd tear apart - tear _him_ apart - and he'd try to move on. Try to find some fraction of the heat she inspired but in the arms of another.

Maybe because he felt too old, too exhausted, to even feign such a potential. He didn't want another life. He hadn't felt that stirring, the intense need to lose himself in someone else's body since before Rei was handed to him and exploded any concept of calm. It hadn't been a priority. Not until Korra dared to show her face again.

If this was all she had to offer, it was enough.

"Until we meet again," he said more decisively, pressing a kiss into her hair.

Korra smiled, truly at peace for the first time in what felt like ten thousand years.

As she fell asleep within the cradle of his arms, Mako decided that he no longer cared to track down whoever had had the gall to steal and ship those private letters of his. Whoever they were, he owed them nothing but gratitude.

* * *

When Rei told him that Master Kai had cleared her for her tattoos, Mako almost fainted. The idea of his little girl not only committing herself to the airbenders, but choosing to go through the hours of hand carved bamboo needles breaking her skin repeatedly...it was enough to make him want to lock her in her room and throw away the key.

But she was eighteen now. Far past any real influence, though she feigned otherwise sometimes. If only to humor him.

He participated in the ritual gathering of the mountain, blue moss alongside her friends and teachers, as it required close to twenty pounds of the stuff to create just enough ink for one set. It was an especially laborious process that modern tools had probably abolished the need for, but she explained that that wasn't the point.

A new airbending Master needed the support of the entire community to take that final step. She needed to prove in the most basic of ways that she was committed to their causes, their way of life, and would never dare to take shortcuts.

Moving into her new quarters in the Ba Sing Se Air Temple was technically easy since she wasn't allowed any large, earthly possessions. It was hard to keep his eyes from burning as he watched her make the circuit of her room, picking up each object and then putting it down as it was deemed not important enough. Not the stuffed fire-ferret she had slept with every night since he could remember. Not the probending helmet from her high school's championship game. Not even the jewelry box filled with ropes of beads composited by her best friend and cousin, the now twenty-five year old Kira.

In the end, she took only a few loose photographs and the beaded comb Mako had bought her for the temple's inauguration party five years prior. Even though, very soon, they both knew that she wouldn't have a use for it. Its purpose was more security blanket than accessory.

He didn't sleep a wink that first night, haunted by what he knew were unlikely scenarios of her breaking down in tears at the first swipe of the razor across her scalp or screaming wildly, having to be held down when the needles dipped in blue ink pressed into the tops of her hands.

He half expected her to rush into his arms the next morning, begging to be allowed back home, insisting that this had all been an experiment gone horribly, horribly wrong. But as he took his seat in the front row reserved for family, he caught a glimpse of her waiting behind the altar in a hooded robe, and she waved with more exuberance than usual, practically beaming.

They were a minute from starting, the other apprentices lighting the incense and adjusting the chimes, when _she_ entered the temple.

He felt Korra's presence in the form of a chill running up his spine, making the hairs stand up on the base of his neck. This was only the fourth time she had returned to the city since they had made their pact. Though she had always been sure to alert him of her arrivals, needing him to be fully aware of where and when they could find privacy and disappear into each other for a few hours, this was the first time she ventured into the public.

Turning his head, he watched as she shuffled down a middle row, intending to find a seat among acolytes that she didn't know the names of. He was surprised by the bubble of irritation that rose in his throat. Without thinking too much about consequences, he gestured for her to join him in the front.

Even from the distance, he could see the uncertainty in her eyes. It dulled a little as Jinora and Kai, the Master and Mistress of this faction, took to the altar along with their young son, Aang, and then Tenzin, Kya, Bumi, Pema, Meelo, Ikki, Bolin, Opal and their five children, Kira, Jade, Mei-Lin, Reno, Toph, and so many other friends filled the remaining row's spaces. Mako kept his hand on the seat next to him in reservation, his eyes never leaving hers, an inviting smile on his perfect lips.

She practically had no choice.

She was glad.

The bells rung out their first, haunting notes just as Korra settled beside him and the anointing ceremony began. When Jinora pulled back Rei's hood, revealing her newly shaved and inked head, Mako couldn't help but gasp, his chest tight, moisture gathering in the corners of his eyes to his horror. Automatically, Korra's hand covered his on his thigh and she felt him relax as their fingers intertwined.

He must have been holding his breath the entire time, for he took a deep, shuddering gulp of air when the applause started. He didn't let go of Korra's hand. Even as the rest of the audience rose in standing ovation, he was rooted to his seat, perhaps afraid that if he moved he would float away.

Korra not only let him, but held on more tightly, knowing that the least she could do was act as an anchor now. When her eyes flicked back toward the stage, the airbending Master Rei was found to be watching them, a barely discernible, crooked grin on her lips which Korra could not help but mirror almost exactly.

The Avatar kept her distance in a dark corner throughout most of the after party, watching with equal parts curiosity and pride as the young woman received a long line of well wishers, her enthusiasm and appreciation never wavering.

"She's a very talented airbender." Korra was startled by a voice whispering into her left ear. She hadn't noticed Tenzin sliding in until it was too late. "Best I've seen in this generation. Despite an admittedly rocky beginning. Her primary strength is that she cares. Youths like her are the reason I can retire comfortably now, knowing that the temples to come will be taken care of. I hope you don't mind me saying, but you should be very proud."

Korra exhaled deeply before daring to meet his wisened, grey eyes. An old man now, looking at more years behind than ahead, she was surprised to see that he now walked with a cane. All her life, he had always seemed so impervious, but she was reminded on a daily basis that all beginnings had an eventual end.

Time was the true master of the elements; wearing away at rocks, snuffing out flames, trapping air and evaporating water.

"Thank you," she responded genuinely, even though she loathed to take credit for any fragment of the new Master's successes.

Only one person deserved that.

"Avatar Korra?" A few minutes later, after Tenzin had been re-absorbed into his ever growing family circle, Korra found herself alone when Rei approached. She swallowed the urge to run and instead stood straighter, bending up the earth a little around her boot heels as extra incentive to remain still.

"Master Rei. Hello." They both bowed with equal formality. At this close range, Korra couldn't help but notice that the girl had grown slightly taller than her. "And congratulations. The Air Nation is lucky to have you."

"You honor me with your presence. I appreciate it. Greatly." She stated this as honest fact. No question as to why the Avatar had crossed dimensions and half the continent to attend a technically insignificant anointment. Korra strongly suspected that any explanation would be redundant.

Actually, at this point, she was sure of it.

"So. I guess...Why did... _Urgh_." A hand was slapped to her forehead with trademarked tactlessness. There was no point beating around the bush. "How long have you known?"

Rei smirked that same, hauntingly familiar, crooked smirk. "Does it matter?"

After a moment's deliberation, Korra shook her head. It really didn't. Anyone who glanced at them side by side could easily come to the same conclusion, let alone someone with insider knowledge of Mako's past. Another thought, for the first time, then hit her like a bolt of lightning and her eyes grew into shimmering pools. "It was you, wasn't it? You brought the letters to my hotel room after the inauguration?"

Rei's smirk didn't budge. She remained purposefully, completely silent.

Korra would have been annoyed at the blatant manipulation if she hadn't been so grateful of the result. Over Rei's shoulder, she could see Mako watching their exchange. Where he once shown only fear at any minor interaction, today he was found to be smiling softly.

"You'll take care of him, won't you?" Korra's gaze whipped back towards Rei. Gone was the easygoingness that had held fast all day. Now, in this dark corner with her back to the party, did she dare to let the expression slip, lips quivering and brows together with obvious worry. "He's delicate. And I can't be around to keep him together anymore. Promise me you won't hurt him?"

It was the only thing Korra couldn't promise. Her very existence hurt Mako. That wouldn't change until the day she died. But there was one thing she could offer.

"I'll try. I promise that I will never stop trying."

Rei closed her eyes and took a cleansing breath. When they opened again, the bright amber color as intense as ever, her smile had snapped back in place.

It was enough.

Out of nowhere, a gaggle of orange-robed apprentices swarmed and lifted Rei up onto their shoulders, giggling manically about something called the "traditional dunking" and Korra took the opportunity to escape to the staircase. A minute later, she was experiencing the party in the way she preferred; quiet and detached, monitoring from a balcony above like a gargoyle perched on a spire.

When warm arms snaked around her waist from behind, she remembered that _detached_ wasn't always an adjective she liked to assume. Especially as scorching lips pressed against the side of her neck, making her shudder. She immediately spun in his embrace and captured his mouth with her own, determined to try keeping her promise to Rei - the only thing she had ever promised their daughter - in the only way she knew how.

"Take me home," she whispered between frantic kisses.

She felt him hesitate. Just for a second. Considering.

His apartment was only a few blocks away, much closer than her Upper Ring hotel, and it had become so insufferably dark and empty since Rei's departure.

Perhaps a visit from the Spirit of Light was the exact renovation it needed.

Hand in hand, they left the party, never once looking back.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Thank you all who follow me, notes me, review me and have been entertained by this story. It will never cease to amuse/amaze me how sometimes I start writing these one-shots and they become these giant, chaptered monsters. I hope the ending was satisfactory. Till next time. Makorra [with Korrasami acknowledgments] forever!


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